15. Maeve

“There!” Flynn gestured triumphantly at a small mound in the middle of a field, just beyond a low stone wall that marked the easternmost boundary of Briarwood.

“It’s a hill.” I leaned against the wall, struggling to catch my breath. I’d followed Flynn across the entire Briarwood estate – down behind the sculpted gardens teaming with tourists, through the thick hedge of wild roses that gave the castle its name, down through the back fields and across the edge of a tiny wood. He skipped over the uneven ground with ease, his long legs making light work of the distance while I huffed and fumbled along behind him.

I wish I’d thought to bring a water bottle. Or a new pair of legs.

I’ll have to get a lot fitter if I want to pass the physical to join the space program.

“That’s not a hill.” Flynn threw up his arms, as if he was totally exasperated with me. But he was grinning. “By the Blessed Virgin Mother Mary, it’s a sidhe – an ancient burial mound. These sidhe are scattered all over the United Kingdom and Ireland. Every one of them is an entry and exit point to the Fae kingdom, although most have been blocked off with magic so the fae can’t use them. The Fae require a death to hold open the doorway.”

“Who’s buried inside?”

“We don’t know. The grave was robbed many years ago. It’s probably some ancient king of the Aes Sídhe. That’s what the fairies call themselves. Their race ruled over England before we humans arrived with our weapons of iron and pushed them all into the realm of Tir Na Nog, which I only remember because it’s also the name of our fair pub.” He grinned at me as he plopped down in the long grass behind the wall, pulled a paper bag filled with candy from his pocket, and offered me a piece. “See? Practical research. This is better than a stuffy old book.”

I accepted a hard ball covered with sugar, and popped it into my mouth. I can’t believe I’m looking at a wormhole into the multiverse. It looks just like a pile of dirt to me. I suck at the sugary ball. “If this is where the fae cross over into our world, can we walk through it and go into their realm—omigod, what the fuck is this?”

I slam my hand over my mouth. My taste buds screamed in protest. The candy was so sour it turned my mouth inside out. My eyes watered.

I spat it out in the grass in disgust, and Flynn burst out laughing.

“You’ve got to be careful with boiled sweets. Some of them have a mighty bite. And as for the portal, we can’t get near it,” Flynn said. “Just as they can’t pass through the castle grounds, so we cannot pass through the door into their world. If you and I were to walk into the sidhe, all we’d see is an empty chamber.”

Interesting. So the wormhole will only transport matter based on certain parameters. What differentiates a fae from a human, based on matter? Surely for them to function in our universe they must contain the same electrons?

“So the fae come and go from this same point? They can move both ways through the wormhole—OW. What gives?”

Flynn threw his arm around my shoulders and shoved me into the grass, laying his body down beside me, his expression rigid.

I tried to lift my head to see what he’d seen, but Flynn pushed my head down. He pressed his finger to his lips.

My ears pricked, the hairs on my arms standing on end. Flynn’s skin was warm and soft against mine. My breath hitched.

What’s going on?

Flynn slowly lifted his arm and inched closer to the wall. He flattened some of the grass in front of it, revealing a gap in the stones wide enough for us to see through. He pointed at something in the field below.

Two green-cloaked men wandered across the field, heading toward the hill…sorry, the sidhe. They carried a small lump in their hands wrapped in blankets.

“Stay right here,” Flynn whispered. “Don’t make a sound.”

Before I could ask him what the hell was going on, he leapt over the wall and raced toward the figures.