the Sidhe display
Tannim
the Sidhe display all kinds of moods, and it was the “unreadable” ones that he feared the most. Keighvin was a gentleman by any creatures’ standards, but he had his breaking points, and when he was near one . . . Keighvin looked up and saw him lurking out of the way, then beckoned the young mage over.
“What’s cooking?” Tannim asked casually. “Anything wrong with Sam’s phony process?”
“With the process—nothing,” Keighvin replied, rubbing one temple distractedly. “But—Vidal Dhu showed up at Sam’s this morning. Not inside the house, but he blocked Sam’s driveway long enough to deliver a message.”
“I think I can guess the message,” Tannim said slowly.
Keighvin nodded, grimly. “A threat, of course. At least he didn’t say, ‘And your little dog, too.’ The worrisome thing is that he’s managed to recruit a corps of lesser nasties, and they’re putting pressure on our boundaries. Nothing like overt warfare, but—don’t go into the woods after dark.”
“Any things we haven’t taken out before?”
“Nothing any worse, so far as we can tell. I don’t like it. And I don’t like Sam being outside our hardened boundaries. I’m setting up our spare rooms here as sleeping-quarters for anyone who can’t protect themselves, including Sam.”
The man in question had come around the corner during Silverhair’s little speech, and waited until he had finished before leaving the work crew and joining them.
“You’re worrying too much, Keighvin,” the old man said comfortably. “I’ve been going over my old gran’s stories. I think I can hold off the boggles; enough to permit the cavalry to come over the hill to rescue me, anyway.”
Tannim noticed that the old man was wearing what looked like an Uzi holstered at his hip; Sam patted it as he finished his statement.
Tannim frowned, rubbing his eyes. “Sam, I don’t mean to rain on your parade, but plain old bullets aren’t going to stop Vidal, and they certainly aren’t going to do anything to a creature like a troll that can heal itself—”
Sam pulled the gun from the holster and handed it to him, wordlessly. Tannim took it—and it sloshed. It was