Page 50 of Horn of Winter

“That’s because your call woke me up from a very deep sleep.”

“Sorry about that.”

“You brought me a butty and coffee, so you’re forgiven.”

He laughed. “If I’d only known bacon was the path to forgiveness, I might have tried it earlier.”

“There are some problems even a butty cannot resolve, and that’s when you bring chocolate.” I reached for one of the paper bags, slid out the toasted sandwich, then reached for a knife to slice it in two.

“Well,” he said, bedevilment dancing through his expression, “the butty has at least gotten me back up here. Now I just need to get?—”

I balled up the paper bag and tossed it at him. “Do not finish that sentence.”

He batted it away with another laugh. “I can but try.”

“And you’re certainly very trying. Eat your sandwich. As you noted, we’ve work to do.”

Once we’d finished our meal, I retrieved the papers Lugh had given me and spread them out on the coffee table. He edged forward on the sofa, his arms crossed over his knees as he studied the three bits of paper.

“You know,” he said after a few minutes, “none of these make a whole lot of sense, even with Lugh transcribing them.”

“It’s just random bits of information Nialle found while searching for the Claws. According to Lugh, he often jotted stuff he found on other relics he thought the museum might want to chase up at a later date.”

“Meaning these”—he paused and motioned to the papers—“fifteen random bits of musings all concern the horn?”

I nodded and pointed to two words sitting on its own page—Ballynastaig Souterrain. “That sounds like a location to me.”

“Could be.” He retrieved his phone from his pocket and googled it. “Okay, it’s an ancient underground structure that’s part of a larger Iron Age fort, and is located within the Ballynastaig Stone Fort, near Gort in Galway. Might be worth checking it out, because the old gods do have a liking for hiding things underground.”

I had no idea where Gort was, but I was familiar enough with Galway, given that’s where my aunt had moved to when she’d had the falling out with Mom. “I saw the witch using the horn, Mathi, so even if it had been kept there, it’s not there now.”

“Perhaps not, but by investigating its former resting place, we might uncover some useful information about it.”

He gave me his phone so I could look at the images. What remained of the fort’s stone walls and earthen ramparts were overgrown and dotted with trees, and the souterrain in its center was rather small and wild-looking. The thick slabs of stone it had been constructed with did at least appear to be in good shape, despite their lean.

I handed the phone back. He tucked it into his pocket, then said, “I’m not seeing anything remotely useful in any of the other notes though?—”

“Which might be because they’re partial rather than whole sentences that make little sense overall. They will mean something, even if we don’t understand it.”

He grunted. “What about the codex librarian—did it give you any information about the horn?”

“It said the horn was designed as a gift to a queen who wished to bring winter down on all her enemies and that it had been cleaved in two so that it could not be used in such a manner ever again.”

“Well, someone has obviously found a way to make it whole again.” He tapped the wordrevengeon the second page that had been circled several times. “This suggests we were right—whoever is wielding this thing is out for revenge.”

“Seems like.” I swept my gaze over the three pages again, then tapped another half sentence. “‘Destroy via gods’ fire’ could mean the forge of the gods we discovered. Nialle wouldn’t have known about it when he was doing this.”

“Why would he note a means of destruction if he was researching for the museum, though?”

I shrugged. “Because it never pays to overlook any information, however unlikely it is to be useable. Or so Lugh once said.”

He briefly pursed his lips. “The quickest and easiest way to check the souterrain would be to take a private jet over to Shannon Airport and have a car waiting.”

“And you can do all that at short notice?”

He smiled somewhat wryly. “I will never be outdone by a Lùtair when it comes to this sort of stuff, especially when I have the advantage of being able to charge the costs back to the council.”

“Which makes me suspect the jet you will be hiring may well belong to Dhar-Val Enterprises.”

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