O'Brian sat sourly at the bar as he nursed his Guinness. The regulars in the smoke-filled pub knew enough by now to avoid him. As the bartender turned the TV to a sports channel, a certain long-haired young man came in through the entrance carrying a backpack filled to bulging. He took a seat next to Donovan and ordered a beer of his own, casually sipping it in seeming ignorance of the acerbic look the Irishman was giving him. "Where in the bloody hell have you been?" O'Brian demanded, "It's bleedin' two in the afternoon!" "I'm a college student, remember?" MacAulay answered without looking at the burly Irishman, "I had work to do on a term paper for European Literature and a chemistry final. Also I had to pay visits to the offices of Astounding Fantasy and the department of motor vehicles. See," he said as he opened up his backpack and showed a large group of maps. "Aye," O'Brian answered, "I see, but why..." "Because we still don't know where the Shea elf lives. Look, I've done my bit; I've set my trap for the fair Miss Lloyd. Now we have to bring these maps back to Little Tokyo so the Yamanba can scry the location of..." his voice drifted as his gaze fell upon the form of someone wearing a dingy-looking tan trench coat with a black wide-rimmed hat who was taking the seat next to Donovan. The stranger wore a pair of sunglasses, and her long, unkempt white hair fell down her back. She gave off an air of menace about her, and as she laid her bony hands on the bar the bartender crossed himself unconsciously before going to her. "Whisky," she ordered in an Asian accent, not bothering to wait for the old man tending bar to ask, "A straight double." O'Brian turned from the gangly Nick MacAulay to the newcomer, and frowned, "What are ye doin' here?" he growled, "I didn't think ye ever left Little Tokyo." The Yamanba began to snicker, "I know," she said as she reached a hand up to her sunglasses, "But like you O'Brian-san, I got impatient waiting for MacAulay-san," she said as she pulled the shades off to reveal her cruel bloodshot eyes, "Come," she said as she stood up, putting the sunglasses back on as she picked up her drink, "Let's find a private booth in the back where I can examine the maps." They headed towards the back, past the pool tables and the group of older men engaged in a dart game. As they sat down, O'Brian looked around to make sure there were no eavesdroppers before he spoke up, "I don't get this," he finally said, "Why bother to try to divine the elf's whereabouts? Why not simply force it out of that blonde girl?" Nick allowed an exasperated sigh, "Because they're now bonded," he explained, "They've been together long enough by now for a link to have formed between them. You yourself experienced this when you attacked her and the elf came to her rescue. Attack the one, and the other will not be far behind. No, our only option is to separate them, and then strike both at the same time." "And the pooka?" the Yamanba asked. "The pooka will either be with one or the other. Since I'll be dealing with the young Miss Lloyd and Donovan here will be taking care of the Shea elf, you'll have to figure out which of us to go with." The witch looked at the young druid silently for a few seconds before grabbing one of the maps. She tool out a flat stone with a hole bored through it, and then yanked several strands of hair out of her head, wincing as she did so. O'Brian then turned to MacAulay, "So, while the Yamanba..." "Yumiko," the Japanese witch muttered as she slid the strands of her white hair through the hole in the stone. Donovan raised an eyebrow as he turned to her. "What?" the Irishman asked. "I have a name, you know," the witch said as she tied the hair strands and began to dangle the stone over the first map, "I'm not just called ‘Yamanba.' My name's Yumiko," she said as the stone seemed to suddenly move of its own accord, "Ah... the elf is not in the city, nor is she in Long Island. The stone indicates she's in New York State." MacAulay nodded as he passed her a New York state map. She then began the process again, narrowing the search down this time to an area in Hudson Valley, a suburb forty-five minutes north of the City. The gangly college student quickly pulled out a map of Hudson Valley from his backpack and passed it to her. Again she dangled the stone from the locks of her hair over the map, and stopped when it moved toward a particular suburb. She pulled the stone away and closed her eyes. She was no longer in a tavern with O'Brian and MacAulay, but standing under a cloudy sky on a street in Hudson Valley, New York. Before her was a beautiful looking house with a large back yard and a tall line of hedges cutting off the property from any neighbors. In the front yard were two large oak trees on either side of the path leading from the porch out into the street. She quickly looked around her, noting that the house was largely isolated away from any other nearby dwellings, and that about two blocks down the street was a bus terminal. She was suddenly at the depot, noting the street sign in front of the building. It was Oak Street. A second later, she was once again in front of the house, looking for the street number. As she looked on, several birds and chipmunks skirted playfully across the front lawn, followed very closely by a squirrel. As the other small animals continued on their way, the squirrel suddenly stopped, its tail and ears picking up as if it suddenly became aware of a nearby presence. It then turned toward the Yamanba. The witch abruptly opened her eyes, finding herself once again in the smoke-filled pub. Both Donovan and Nick noted that she seemed unusually shaken. "Yaman... Yumiko?" MacAulay asked, "Is everything alright?" "Kuso!" the Yamanbo hissed, "The thing... it... it almost sensed me. The pooka, that squirrel must have been the pooka. If I'd stayed any longer, it surely would have detected me, I..." her voice drifted when she noticed the looks the two men were giving her. She quickly composed herself and narrowed her eyes, "I saw it; the elf's house. I didn't get the number of it, but it's on Oak Street in Hudson Valley, and I can give you a fair description." Donovan's lips pressed together into a sinister smile at the news. MacAulay meanwhile quickly looked at his watch, "Great," he said, "And now, within a very few minutes, my part of the plan will be set into motion." ------ Mia finished checking to make sure there was enough salt left on her porch and was about to go into the kitchen to start on dinner when she saw it again; Arine watching her like a hawk. The blonde had followed her into practically every room in the house and was obviously trying to keep the elf within eyesight. At first Mia had thought she'd done something wrong, but she sensed to anger in her beloved, and the reporter wasn't scowling at her. She went into the kitchen and began to prepare a vegetable stew, smiling as she began peeling a potato. She would never think of making an issue of the fact that she was a strict vegan, or that her beloved wasn't, but she was sure Arine would eventually give in to her cooking skills and swear off meat as well. As she cut the first potato up into wedges and began to peel the second, Arine walked into the kitchen and pulled out a seat at the table next to her. Mia cut the second potato into wedges and turned to the blonde. "Arine love," she began, "Are you okay?" The reporter nodded her head. The physical weariness she'd felt upon first waking up soon enough wore off, but she could still remember vividly every part of the dream. She and Mia were both in danger, and she'd chosen for herself the role of a hero. She didn't know what was coming, or exactly how she'd be capable of helping with only a few hours of boxing lessons, but she new enough to decide not to let the elf out of her sight. "I'm fine," the blonde answered, "Why?" "Well," Mia began hesitatingly, "It's just that you seem to be following me all over the place today. Is there something you wanted to talk to me about, love?" Arine looked at Mia silently for a bit before reaching over to stroke the brunette's cheek, "That crazy Irishman," she said as she began to caress the elf behind her pointed ear, "He's still out there Mia. I... I don't want to leave you alone. If something should happen, I want to... No, need to be there for you. I..." Mia put her knife down. She reached up and gently grabbed Arine's wrist. She turned and kissed the palm of the blonde's hand, then looked into her love's worried blue eyes, "Arine," she said tenderly, "The fact that you want to protect me means a great deal, but you don't have to worry. I have the sidhe, as well as my trusty bata if it comes down to it." "I know," Arine said as Mia held her hand, "But I..." a phone call interrupted the conversation. The blonde let go of the elf's hand as she reached into her pants' pocket to answer her cell phone, "Hello? Oh, hello Mr. Stevens," she said as she recognized the voice of her editor, "What? Interview who? Wait, hold on," she said as she quickly looked around the kitchen, "Mia, I need a pen and something to write on." The writer quickly went to a shelf and retrieved a pen. She then hurriedly passed a small notepad on top of the refrigerator to the blonde. The reporter brought the phone back up to her ear as she held the pen in her hand, "Sorry about that Mr. Stevens. Okay, go ahead," she said. The editor of Amazing Fantasy then began telling her all about a hot new prodigy in the realm of fantasy fiction who was really making a splash in the overseas markets and who would soon be allowing for his works to be published in America for the first time. Since she had done such an outstanding job on the Mia Shea interview, Stevens was giving her the plumb assignment of interviewing him. Arine smiled, blushing a bit at the praise the editor gave her for her interview with Mia. The editor went on to explain that the author would only be in New York City for a short time, so she'd have to interview him at the apartment he was staying at today. Suddenly her face fell. She looked over into Mia's beautiful brown eyes and thought of declining the assignment. She couldn't leave her, not now. What if something were to happen to her? The elf, whose sensitive hearing was able to pick up on most of the phone conversation, seemed to be able to tell what was going on inside of the reporter. "Go," she whispered, "I'll be fine, I promise." Arine sighed defeatedly as she nodded her head to her love. She then turned her attention back to the phone conversation, "Alright, so what's the author's name?" she asked as she brought her pen back to the notepad, "Nicholas MacAulay? And how do I reach him?" she asked. The editor gave her the author's cell phone number, and she quickly wrote it down, "Okay, I've got it. Yes, thank you. Bye," she said as she closed the cell phone. As she put it back in her pocket, she felt the elf put her hand on her shoulder. "Arine," she asked, "Do you... Do you still have the walnut? The one Mamma De Luca's great granddaughter gave you?" Arine reached her hand into her other pants pocket and felt, "Yes, I do," she answered. "Good," Mia said, "Look, I'll be fine because O'Brian doesn't know where I live, but you... Please be careful," she said as she now became a bit overprotective herself, "No matter what, don't lose the walnut. Promise me." "I promise," Arine said as she pulled the elf into a hug. Both were worried for the other, and neither wanted to let the other go. Finally though, Arine kissed Mia on the cheek as she pulled back. She reached into her pocket again for her cell phone to call the writer she would be interviewing. ------ "Yes," Yumiko answered irritably, "I'm sure the pooka didn't get a fix on me. I wasn't there long enough for it to have felt anything more than a quick shadow or a rustling of the brush." "Let's hope not." O'Brian said, "After all this planning, t' say nothin' of the money this whole thing is costing me..." "I tell you the yousai never got a bead on me!" the old crone practically yelled. MacAulay quickly interjected himself into the conversation before the two got out of hand. "Look," he interrupted, "Let's not worry about all of that right now. When I get the phone call and give the reporter the false address, you two..." he was cut off as a ring tone playing Beethoven's Fifth rang out. He fished his phone out of his jacket pocket, putting his finger up to his lips as he answered to silence the other two in the booth, "Hello? Yes, this is Nicholas MacAulay speaking; may I ask who this is? Arine Lloyd?" he asked with a wide grin, "Interview? Why yes, I'd love to meet with you..." -End Notes- Bata is simply another word for shillelagh.
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