Tír na nÓg Trilogy, Book III: Tír na nÓg

24-Hour Psychic

Carrion birds, crows, circled overhead as they approached and passed through the dolmen portal. Cullen eyed them warily, as had Cathbad, but Emery took little notice of them. She was more concerned about where exactly they'd pop out on the other side. New York City was huge, and what if they came out in the middle of a street or on top of a building? But the druid and God had done well; the travelers arrived in a patch of bushes next to a reservoir in Central Park. Literally nobody was anywhere near them.

The park was pleasant enough at night; the evening was early, and the farther they walked, the more people they came across. Emery had been correct in assuming no one would think anything of their clothing and weaponry. Or, if anyone did think something, nobody accosted them about it. Emery had dressed in her leather breeches and a tunic and thrown her black-and-gray-furred cloak over that. Cullen had forced her to put on protective gear, though he'd struggled to find much to fit her narrow frame. She did wear mail over her tunic as well as some plating. She'd skipped any sort of decoration beyond the blackthorn twig at her neck, happy enough to strap Great Fury at her back and Little Fury at her hip instead. The walnut from Cathbad was in a pouch on her belt. Her hair she'd fishtail-braided with Tess's help, and the braid hung thick down her back.

Emery had tried to convince Tess to wear breeches and was surprised at her friend's reluctance. Since Emery had been away, Tess had molded into life with Cathbad in Dun-Dealgan quite seamlessly. A certain sadness touched Emery when she realized the Tess she'd known--the one with the sparkly purses and cute barrettes and rainbow apparel--had lost much of her whimsy; Tess had, in a sense, grown up. She'd had to, surely, to deal with all the troubles she'd experienced. In any case, Tess had been insistent on wearing her blue dress--it was a pretty color, and it was lovely against her hair, brought out her eyes, but Emery was sure the long skirt would become a hindrance. She had, however, been able to get Tess to carry a knife, even though her friend much preferred the healing herbs and trinkets Cathbad had begun teaching her to use.

The druid was his usual self, wizard paraphernalia and all, billowy cloak with all its hidden folds, knotted staff out and obvious. He was more serious now, as well. When Emery had first met him, he was bumbling, eccentric. He was still those things, for certain, but he had also sharpened; he wasn't quite so positive as he'd once been. He and Tess seemed utterly devoted to one another, Emery thought, and perhaps having someone to worry about had sobered them.

And then there was Cullen, of course, impressive and intimidating as ever in full regalia. He'd prepared as if he were going into battle: a deep green tunic long enough that he needed no breeches, leather boots with thick-furred tops up to his knees, chainmail and copper breastplate, leg and arm plates, thick sheepskin cloak, all straps and studs and furs--and over and under all of that were multiple weapons, enough for several men let alone one. The only decoration he wore was his hound's head brooch pinning a red tartan across his shoulders, under his cloak. He'd foregone a helmet and instead wore his hair in his standard knot at the back, braids along the sides. Emery had always wondered how he'd been able to style his hair so neatly, and as they'd prepared themselves, she'd been surprised to see he'd done it himself.

They did receive quite a few looks as they began to immerse themselves in more crowded areas, tending to walk four in a row rather than behind one another, but the looks were entertained, not frightened. Everyone moved aside, and several people actually asked to take pictures with them, surely thinking they were actors. Emery wondered whether she should've always worn such attire; maybe the crowds in the high school hallways would've parted for her as well.

All kinds of people were about. Cullen and Cathbad didn't seem particularly impressed by the types of people so much as the sheer amount of people, boating and dining and skateboarding and jogging and playing music and doing yoga and getting wedding photos taken and filming random things with their phones and on and on and on, and when they reached the end of the park and hit a busy street with cars racing by and honking and hot dog vendors and busy pedestrians of all kinds, the men were taken aback.