Page 75 of Mage Massacres

“Right,” he acquiesced. “One: Giants built these columns. Specifically, Finn, when he accepted a challenge from another giant. Two: Finn was said to not always be a giant, but a man with supernatural abilities.”

“Okay.” Her brows knitted together as she rubbed the pedmar’s neck. “Both of those could be true, simultaneously.”

“That’s what I was thinking, too.” Palmer began to pace, though I couldn’t decide if the extra energy was from the excitement or the mystery.

Pete flicked his tail, his skin twitching as if he were a horse running flies away. There were no bugs inside our bubble and nothing flying around to tickle his hide. The mage might have been making him nervous, but it was difficult to read the pedmar’s beady eyes.

“I could give you Finn mac Cool’s life story, but I don’t want to bore you.” The mage sighed, disappointed that he couldn’t spill his knowledge.

“I will say that druids and fairies are woven throughout the tales along with things like defeating a fire-breathing man and a firebird. The bird was connected to fairies, but it sounds like it could have been a dragon. There’s the thumb of knowledge, too, which granted him infinite wisdom.”

Palmer paused, glancing at each of us before he concluded.

“It’s said that he had hounds born of a cursed human woman; a male and a female. His first wife was able to take the form of a deer, and so could his son; Oisín or Osheen.”

Stone cocked his head, regarding Palmer with curiosity. “How does Finn die in the legends?”

Pete had decided to lie down while the mage was talking, but his stillness made me uncomfortable. His chest moved with his breaths, and his ear flopped over his face; so I knew he wasn’t dead.

Something was a bit off, though I couldn’t pin down what it was.

“There aren’t many accounts of his death. Most of them are fictional retellings. The consensus is usually that he isn’t dead, but sleeping in a cave somewhere, waiting to rise.”

“What of his son?” Stone continued, falling down the rabbit hole with the mage.

“That’s what you want to know?” Palmer retorted, and the demon gave him a solemn nod.

“Osheen married a fairy whose father was a god of the sea. They lived in the Otherworld, sometimes referred to as Tír na nÓg. And they had three children who basically disappeared. I haven’t been able to find much on any of them.”

Sloane waved her hands in front of her chest. “Wait. Wait. You think a pedmar, at some point in time, was related to Finn mac Cool?”

“Yes,” Palmer answered quickly.

I leaned toward him, hoping that he would elaborate, but he didn’t.

She groaned. “Give me something more to go off of, Mage.”

“That’s all I’ve got.” He frowned, then glanced at the pedmar. “I was hoping he might be helpful.”

Pete’s massive body was playing tricks on my mind. I rubbed my eyes, thinking it was due to exhaustion, but I wasn’t tired. His leathery black hide seemed like it was losing its color, dulling as the sun went down.

“Isn’t Tír na nÓg part of fae culture, too?” York blurted suddenly. “It’s mentioned in druid history as our birthplace, but we don’t talk about it after that lesson.”

“Yes,” I replied. “That’s the old name for the summer realm. And it used to be home to the druids and the mer before the war of seasons was fought. Some of the other creatures stayed, but not many.”

“No,” Sloane said, shaking her head as she pressed her temples. “No. Stop. Back all the way up. How is bringing Pete here supposed to help us with anything?”

“We need to get his magic back,” Palmer stated, crossing his arms. “The book mentions that giants haven’t been seen in the Underworld in hundreds of years, but it’s been millennia since they were on Earth.”

She threw her head back, glaring at the sky. “This is all hypothetical. You’re grasping at straws.”

Novak shrugged. “We watched you implode less than two weeks ago, and then you reformed out of thin air, unharmed but naked.”

When she swung her ire to rest on him, the vampire smiled. “I’m just saying, I think the mage is on to something.”

“Then how do we get his magic back?” Briggs rubbed his forehead with his middle finger, irritated and thoroughly versed in trusting the vampire and mage.

Not with everything…