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should visit something called the Pool of Wishes in the
Western Isles, a fabulous place in T'r n'a n'Og where the home of the Gods lay.

    Heading south they came to a strangely quiet village-my village-where
people refused to answer their doors after sunset. A few of us were gathered in
the local pub and I remember how I felt the moment they wandered through the
door. I was a rough and ready journalist. I'd met people from all walks of life,
but I'd never met anyone like them before. They were apart from everyone else,
as if they'd witnessed things none of us could ever dream of; which, of course,
they had.
    We rarely saw strange faces in that haunted place so I went over to introduce
myself, and to tell them what kind of hell they'd wandered into. For weeks we'd
been the prey of strange creatures we couldn't identify. They roamed the lonely
fields during the day, but under cover of darkness they came into the village,
looking like nothing more than sheets flapping in the wind-but one of our local
farmers had seen them reduce a sheep to bloody chunks in seconds. Some people
died before we learned they couldn't get into houses past locked doors. But even
though we'd warned everyone to lock their doors at sunset, people were still getting killed in their homes. It was a mystery we couldn't understand. Naturally,
those six brave people agreed to help us solve our problem.
    After Shavi expressed his guilt at freeing Maponus, Church summoned
Niamh, who agreed to marshall the Tuatha De Danann to bring back their
errant god on one condition: that Church broke off his relationship with Laura
so that he could learn to love her. Although it confirmed what Church had suspected about Niamh's feelings, it was still a shock. His relationship with Laura
was in a state of flux, and he had no idea how he really felt about her, but to put
her on one side seemed so callous. Yet the burden of responsibility proved too
great. How could he set their petty emotions above the chance to prevent
Maponus murdering more people? He agreed, reluctantly, and though he didn't
recognise it at the time, his decision was swayed by that strange emotional
power the Tuatha De Danann held over mortals.
    Ruth was concerned that she had had no contact with her familiar since her
imprisonment. She embarked on a tantric sex ritual with Veitch, during which
the familiar came to her to tell her she was tainted-she must seek help or die.
Tom obviously feared the worst; he told her she had to be examined by the
Tuatha De Danann.
    I drove Church, Tom, and Ruth to Richmond in Yorkshire, where a path
was found beneath the castle to T'ir n'an n'Og and the Court of the Final Word.
This was a disturbing place that claimed to be dedicated to healing but where
much darker probings into the mystery of existence continued away in the
shadows. Here they met the god the Celts called Dian Cecht, the master healer,
who agreed to help them. I don't mind admitting he terrified me. He prepped Ruth for an op and set his Caraprix free for an internal investigation of her head.
It didn't last long. The Caraprix erupted out of her head like it had been fired
out of a gun. "The Sister of Dragons has been corrupted beyond all meaning of
the word," Dian Cecht said to us. "She is the medium for the return of the Heart
of Shadows." It didn't sink in straightaway, but when it did, I felt like throwing
up. The Black Pearl she'd swallowed back in Edinburgh had contained the
essence of Balor. It had been distilled from all that black gunk Church and the
others had found in Salisbury and beneath Dartmoor. Ruth was to be the receptacle that would allow its rebirth, but that doesn't begin to illuminate the true
horror of the situation. In a matter of weeks, Balor would burst out of her, fully
formed, killing her instantly. They'd obviously chosen her because she was powerful enough to cope with the rigours of what lay ahead. The pearl wasn't actually, truly,