"That is everybody's character," Shavi said.
Baccharus began to sing in their lyrical, alien tongue; there was so much sadness in every syllable they felt as if their chests were being crushed by despair. Their heads bowed as one, and in that song they finally felt the true pain of the Tuatha lle Danann.
When the last note of Baccharus' magical singing finally faded away, there was a brief moment of ringing silence, and then Cormorel brightened instantly. "Come. We have driven the sadness from our being for a time and now we are free to drink deep!" He raised his beer and emptied the can, letting forth an enormous belch. Church handed him another one, which he glugged eagerly.
"Now let me tell you of joy and wonder!" he continued. "Would you like to hear how our greatest warriors crushed the Night Walkers beneath their heel at the second battle of Magh Tuireadh? Or perhaps a personal tale of my great wassailing? Or perhaps something of the Fragile Creatures who preceded you?" He gave a strange, weighted smile that none of them could quite understand. "Not so fragile, some of them. For your breed at least. They did not accept us with kindness in the early days."
"I heard they resisted you quite forcefully," Tom noted.
Cormorel mused on this for a moment. "They were slow to appreciate the true order of things. They were, I think, quite brutal in spirit. There was something of the Night Walkers about them."
"A matter of perception, I would say," Tom persisted.
Cormorel didn't seem offended by his tone. "We crushed them in the end, you know."
Tom nodded. "Yet they still exert an influence. Knowledge encoded in the landscape for future generations to decipher. Information to be used to resist you." Church and the others all looked at Tom, but he wouldn't meet their eyes. "Their bravery is beyond question, but perhaps you have underestimated their intelligence. They were playing a very long game." Tom let the words hang, but it was obvious he was not going to elucidate.
Cormorel maintained a curious expression for a moment, then shrugged as if it were nothing, but Church could tell Tom's comments were still playing in his mind.
"Tell me why some of you are almost like us and some are just… unknowable," Ruth said.
Cormorel smiled condescendingly. "None of us are truly like you."
Baccharus held up his hand to silence his partner. "No, that is a good question. Some of us are very like the Fragile Creatures, if only in our joys and sorrows. How many of our brethren would take pleasure in this, here, tonight, around this fire? Yet to me this is a moment of great pleasure, to be savoured and discussed at length once we are back in the Far Lands." He smiled sweetly. "We love our stories. They are the glue that holds the universe together."
Tom bent forward to intrude in the conversation once again. "There is a hierarchy among the Tuatha De Danann. They have a very complex society which is layered depending upon the power they wield. At the top is the First Family. At the bottom…" He motioned towards Cormorel and Baccharus.
Church flinched; it sounded distinctly like an insult. Cormorel seemed to feel the same way, for he eyed Tom askance as he sipped his beer.
"Do you hold no grudges, True Thomas, for the time you spent with us?" he asked pointedly.
"I have learned to be at peace with my situation."
Cormorel nodded. "That is not quite an answer to my question, but I will accept it nonetheless." His smile grew tight. "Did you know, True Thomas, your Queen has returned to her court under Tom-na-hurich, the Hill of Yews? Your white charger still resides there, as vital as the last day you saw him." His eyes never left Tom's face.
Tom's face remained as emotionless as ever, but Church recognised a faint hardening. "The point I was making," he continued, turning to the others, "is that power seems to come with the extent of time they have existed, and some of the Tuatha De Danann are much more powerful and alien than us. Although they say they have all existed since the dawn of time, it would appear that some are much older than the others. Dagda, the Allfather, was there at the beginning, and he has no connection to us at all. These two, I believe, came later."
"Then perhaps there is an evolution, even among the gods," Shavi mused.
Church was struck with a moment of clarity. "And perhaps one day we will evolve to be like the Danann."
Cormorel laughed faintly, patronisingly. "And perhaps the arc of sky will rain diamonds."
"It is unwise to be so arrogant, Cormorel," Baccharus said. "Though it is easy to accept our place in the universe, we of all races should know there is a cycle to everything. Powers rise and fall, influences ebb and flow. And the Fragile Creatures have shown their resilience in the face of the uncaring hand of existence. You see these here, you know the power they represent."
Cormorel shrugged dismissively. "You are a dreamer, Baccharus."
In the brief lull that followed, Church saw his opportunity. "How are you dealing with the Fomorii?"
Cormorel took the whisky and sipped it, smacking his lips. "They leave us alone. We do not bother them," he said as he passed the bottle on.
"They won't leave you alone for long. They were trying to bring Balor back. Now we've stopped them they'll just turn to something else. And you could be the target next time."
"Oh, most certainly. And when they dare raise their hands against us, we shall strike them down."
Church couldn't believe Cormorel's arrogance. "Surely it would be better to attack first, before they can-"
"There are too many things to do, too many places to visit here in this world that has been denied us. We need to be making merry, drinking this fine…" He held up the can, then shook his head when he couldn't summon a word to describe it.
"They beat you once before. When they first emerged into this world."
Cormorel's gaze lay on Church coldly. "We did not fully realise the extent of their treachery. Now we are prepared." He sighed, his annoyance dissipating quickly. "However much I meet people, I find it hard to understand your inner workings. You have so little time and indulge in so little enjoyment. But you are entertaining, for all your foibles. We will continue to try to understand you."
"Have you heard what the Fomorii are doing now?" Shavi asked.
Cormorel smiled and shook his head. "They may burrow into the deep, dark earth and wrap themselves in shadows until the stars fall, for all I am concerned. The Night Walkers are a poisonous brood, given to plotting and hating, but they are wise and would not seek to challenge us unnecessarily. We can afford to leave them alone." He peered at Church, his brow furrowed. "Strangely, I see you have the taint of the Fomorii about you."
Church explained how the Fomorii had infected him with the Kiss of Frost and how, although the Roisin Dubh had been destroyed, some of its dark power still lay within him.
Cormorel shook his head sadly. "Very unwise, Brother of Dragons. You will not find any of the Golden Ones aiding you until you have expunged that taint." He wrinkled his nose as if there were a bad smell.
"And how do I do that?" Church asked.
Cormorel shrugged. "Perhaps if you travelled to the Western Isles, immersed yourself in the Pool of Wishes…" His voice trailed off; the question was obviously of no interest to him. "Now," he said animatedly, "have we more drink? This is a celebration, not a conference!"