Reign of Evil

“It’s a curse.” Laws found a runaway samosa and snapped it into his mouth. “Tolkien’s elves leaving Middle Earth for Valorian mimics the Tuatha leaving England for Tir Na Nog. Both left because of the coming age of humans. Both left some of their kind behind. This thing inside Van Dyke is probably one of those left-behinds.”

Genie shook his head violently, his hand going to something hanging on a necklace beneath his shirt. “You’re saying this as if it’s true.” Genie seemed as surprised as the rest of them that he’d spoken. “Sorry, it’s just that…”

YaYa smiled grimly. “This is just the beginning. Everything you thought you knew will change. It happened to all of us.”

Laws shrugged apologetically, as if he was sorry for spoiling Genaro’s idea of the truth. “We’re talking about pre-history. It could be right or wrong; that’s sort of beside the point. The fact that we have a Tuatha right here with us and the Wild Hunt killing people around this country by transporting themselves through the mounds is what we have to deal with. The rest is just background, and something to maybe help us put it in context.”

In the intervening silence a tune began to form at the back of the room. The sound was high-pitched, almost too high to be made by a human. Van Dyke had been too weak to stand, so they’d pulled two pews together to form a sort of crib to contain him. Around and on this, Sassy had drawn arcane magical symbols. He was sitting up now, singing in a language Walker had never heard before. It was at once lyrical and harsh, words beginning with vowels and ending with brittle consonants.

Everyone stared at Van Dyke for what seemed like five minutes until he finally spoke. “Tir Na Nog, the place where time is but a memory, ’tis neither hot nor cold, windy nor still, wet nor dry. Tir Na Nog.”

It was clear at once that this wasn’t Van Dyke speaking but rather the Tuatha.

Sassy moved forward, but Holmes held up his hand. She hesitated, unsure if she wanted to follow his command, but relented, a curious look coming to life in her eyes.

Holmes stepped forward and held his hands out in front of him, palms up and empty. “I’m Commander Sam Holmes, U.S. Navy SEALs. To whom do I have the pleasure to speak?”

“’Twas you who brought me back.” The voice broke from high to low at odd times, as if it wasn’t used to the language.

“It was. We thought you might be able to help.”

“I’m trapped here. Weak. Sick. Need to touch the land. Need to feel the spirit of the trees.”

“We can probably help. You’re keeping the man Van Dyke alive, yes?”

“He sucks at me like a baby to a nipple. It irritates, but it is a pleasure to feel his life.” Then Van Dyke made a face. “But his is such an oily soul. The things he’s seen… done.”

“Your people left you.” Holmes glanced at Laws, who nodded. “Why did they leave you?”

“Tir Na Nog. Once gone you can never return.” Van Dyke regarded the humans in the room with a fondness one might show to his pets. “I love this land. I love the strange race of being known as human. I didn’t want to leave.”

Laws shook his head in amazement, eyes wide. “Do you realize that this being has seen more than four thousand years of our history? What is your name?”

“When we speak our names, it is with our minds and you are unable to hear it. Dyfed is a good name. He was a poet I once inspired.”

The name sounded remarkably like “David,” but with a residual “f” replacing the “v.”

Laws smiled. “You’re a muse.”

“I inspire. Yes.” Then Van Dyke looked startled. His eyes searched the room, appearing neither to fall on an object or person or to recognize them. He let out a cry, then collapsed, falling roughly back into his pew-made cradle.

CHAPTER 31

POINT BRAVO, WARWICK, ENGLAND. LATER.

Holmes was the first to the man. He reached over the pew and checked for a pulse. Nothing. He shoved the pews apart and laid the man gently on the floor. He made sure the man’s clothing was loose, then began to give him CPR.

Walker and Laws came over to assist, moving the pews farther apart. Laws loosened Van Dyke’s belt and removed his shoes. Walker took over compressing the man’s chest while Holmes supplied air.

Everyone was silent as the three men tried to save the life. After thirty seconds, Holmes checked for a pulse. He found one. As thready and weak as it was, it was at least there.