Over his pale blue eyes his gray eyebrows formed sharp vees. He wore no beard, as such things constituted the vanity the cult eschewed, and his double chins wobbled.
Keegan doubted he observed the weekly day of fasting.
“Mahon. I wasn’t informed you’d graced us with another visit. Old Father, you are both welcome. Blessings on you, pure of heart.”
“And on you and yours.” Keegan laid a hand on his heart and leaned on his cane. “My thanks, brother, for making me welcome.”
“Old Father is a friend to my family. A holy man who has made pilgrimage while spreading good works and good words across Talamh.”
“Please, please, come and sit.” Gesturing, Toric led them through another archway and to stone benches, a quiet fire. There he rang a small bell.
Another boy—females weren’t permitted inside the Prayer House, even as servants—scurried in.
“Fruit and wine for our visitors. Do you seek our refuge, Old Father?”
“How kind.” Keegan sat, let out a deep and weary breath. “Ah, the old bones do creak! The young one here”—he patted Mahon’s knee—“has offered me a cot for the night.”
“I will see you safely housed, Old Father,” Mahon promised.
“My needs are few.” Keegan held up a hand. “But I fear my days of making my home in a cave in the hills are done.”
“How many years have you, Old Father?”
“I count one hundred and sixty, and am coming to the end of this cycle. I journey here for the sea air and the nearness of those of you who live your lives in faith and prayer.”
The boy came back with a jug of water and cups, a bowl of fruit.
“Oranges!” Keegan filled his voice with pleasure. “You have Sidhe among your faithful.”
“A few. And more who bring offerings from below.” Toric studied Keegan closely as the boy poured water in the cups. “One hundred and sixty is a ripe age, but I trust you’ll have many more years.”
“It is not to be. My thanks.” Keegan accepted the cup, drank slowly. “Death is creeping close now, and I have seen my last summer. I do not fear it, as I have lived, always, in faith that what we end here only begins another plane. One of brighter light and deeper faith. I am ready when the gods call me.”
“Until that day, you are welcome here, Old Father. I know Mahon returns to his homeplace tomorrow. You would honor us by spending the time left to you on this plane in faith and prayer with us. I will arrange a chamber for you.”
Keegan bowed his head. “Your kindness to this pilgrim brings blessings on you.”
When they left, Keegan leaned on Mahon, and spoke only of the sea and the hills and the forest.
The minute they were in Mahon’s chamber, Keegan shook off the illusion. “Gods, I come to know the old fathers and mothers are the most courageous of us simply for putting their feet on the floor of a morning.”
He dropped down in a chair, stretched out his legs. And smiled. “Harken could have gotten every thought, but I found more than enough. They’ve already sacrificed, and more than once these last months, on the main altar. And Toric plans to slit my throat tomorrow, and offer the blood of a holy man near the end of this cycle of life to Odran, and to his faithful.”
“Bloody hell.”
“And that’s where he’ll spend his own cycle, for I’ve other plans.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
That evening, while Keegan laid out his plans, Breen and Marco spent an hour on Zoom with Sally and Derrick. As expected, she found them both fully geared up for Halloween.
“We’re going as Morticia and Gomez,” Sally told them.
“Cara Mia!” Derrick ran kisses up his husband’s arm to make him laugh.
“We want pictures!” Marco insisted. “And of the club. I’m a hundred percent you’ve gone wild there.”
“Right through with The Addams Family theme. Geo’s going as Uncle Fester. What about you?”
“I’m getting my cowboy on,” Marco decided on the spur of the moment.
“Witch.” Easy enough, Breen decided. “A good witch.”
“Sexy witch,” Sally added. “We want pictures, too. This is the first Halloween we haven’t had you here for—has to be close to ten years.”
How the hell were they going to get pictures? Breen wondered while Marco chattered on. She’d think of something.
“I know you have to get to the club,” she said as the hour wound up. “We want you to know we’re going on a little trip—research—and we’ll have spotty internet. Don’t worry if you don’t hear from us for a few days.”