Shattered: The Iron Druid Chronicles, Book Seven Read Online Free PDF Page A
Author: Kevin Hearne
again—and, besides, I haven’t had breakfast yet either.
Recognizing that the same uncertainty applies to the hounds, I haul out a bag of kibble and pour it into two gigantic bowls.
Oberon says.
“It’s a backup plan,” I reply. “Just in case. You’re free to hunt, of course, and there’s all the water you want in the river. I hope I’ll be back in a few minutes and none of it will be necessary. But you know how weird things can get when you expect Atticus to behave normally.”
“The point is, you won’t starve while I’m gone, and I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
We all make short work of our breakfast and I give the hounds hugs before I shift away to Tír na nÓg, the primary Irish plane to which the Irish gods have tethered all others, allowing us to travel as we wish. I check at Manannan’s estate first, but Atticus isn’t there. Nor is he at the Time Island; the boat he used is moored at the shore with a rope tied to a stake plunged in the ground. He isn’t at Goibhniu’s shop or at the Fae Court, and that exhausts all the places I know to look for him in Tír na nÓg. No one I ask knows where he and the old man have gone. I don’t have time to waste looking anymore, so I shift back to Colorado and find the hounds playing down by the river.
Oberon! Orlaith!
There are no creatures better at making someone feel welcome than happy hounds. Though I had been gone perhaps only a half hour, their joy at my return was no less than if I had been gone half a year. I wish sometimes that humans could greet each other with such unreserved delight. Leaving out the face-licking, perhaps.
I can’t play with them, however, and though it breaks my heart, I have to leave Oberon behind if I’m going to go to India.
“I couldn’t find Atticus. I need you to stay here and explain where I’ve gone so that he can find me,” I tell him. We enter the cabin, and I grab a pen and paper to scribble down a note.
“Tell him I’m with Laksha; we’re trying to find and help my real father, who’s in trouble, and the details on where to find me are in this note I’m leaving. Don’t forget to tell him about the note, okay?”
“Good hound.”
I smile and answer him privately.
You’ve seen too many human movies. Hounds are allowed to miss whomever they want at any point in a relationship without any creep penalties
.
I will miss both you and Atticus
, I say, picking up my staff, Scáthmhaide, and walking outside with Orlaith trailing behind.
I hope to see you soon
.
I put my hand on a tethered tree and ask Orlaith to put one paw on me and one on the tree. Orlaith says,
I tell Oberon what she said, and then we shift away to India.
“Why did they do it?” Owen asked. “Cover up the earth?”
“They would say it speeds their transport system, but I think primarily it’s an aversion to mud. They don’t feel the magic of the earth like we do, so it’s not a moral decision for them. It’s convenience.”
“Oh, Siodhachan,” he said, shaking his head in despair. “Are you going to tell me that everything’s worse? Hasn’t the world gotten better in two thousand years?”
The bartender arrived with our shots and beers, and I thanked him. “Some things have improved dramatically,” I said, looking down at our drinks.
“What’s this, then?” My archdruid scowled at the glasses, distrust writ large on his face.
“A sampling of Ireland’s genius,” I replied, and switched to English for the next sentence. “Whiskey and stout.” I picked up the shot glass and returned to Old Irish. “Begin with this and toss it down.
Recognizing that the same uncertainty applies to the hounds, I haul out a bag of kibble and pour it into two gigantic bowls.
“It’s a backup plan,” I reply. “Just in case. You’re free to hunt, of course, and there’s all the water you want in the river. I hope I’ll be back in a few minutes and none of it will be necessary. But you know how weird things can get when you expect Atticus to behave normally.”
“The point is, you won’t starve while I’m gone, and I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
We all make short work of our breakfast and I give the hounds hugs before I shift away to Tír na nÓg, the primary Irish plane to which the Irish gods have tethered all others, allowing us to travel as we wish. I check at Manannan’s estate first, but Atticus isn’t there. Nor is he at the Time Island; the boat he used is moored at the shore with a rope tied to a stake plunged in the ground. He isn’t at Goibhniu’s shop or at the Fae Court, and that exhausts all the places I know to look for him in Tír na nÓg. No one I ask knows where he and the old man have gone. I don’t have time to waste looking anymore, so I shift back to Colorado and find the hounds playing down by the river.
Oberon! Orlaith!
There are no creatures better at making someone feel welcome than happy hounds. Though I had been gone perhaps only a half hour, their joy at my return was no less than if I had been gone half a year. I wish sometimes that humans could greet each other with such unreserved delight. Leaving out the face-licking, perhaps.
I can’t play with them, however, and though it breaks my heart, I have to leave Oberon behind if I’m going to go to India.
“I couldn’t find Atticus. I need you to stay here and explain where I’ve gone so that he can find me,” I tell him. We enter the cabin, and I grab a pen and paper to scribble down a note.
“Tell him I’m with Laksha; we’re trying to find and help my real father, who’s in trouble, and the details on where to find me are in this note I’m leaving. Don’t forget to tell him about the note, okay?”
“Good hound.”
I smile and answer him privately.
You’ve seen too many human movies. Hounds are allowed to miss whomever they want at any point in a relationship without any creep penalties
.
I will miss both you and Atticus
, I say, picking up my staff, Scáthmhaide, and walking outside with Orlaith trailing behind.
I hope to see you soon
.
I put my hand on a tethered tree and ask Orlaith to put one paw on me and one on the tree. Orlaith says,
I tell Oberon what she said, and then we shift away to India.
“Why did they do it?” Owen asked. “Cover up the earth?”
“They would say it speeds their transport system, but I think primarily it’s an aversion to mud. They don’t feel the magic of the earth like we do, so it’s not a moral decision for them. It’s convenience.”
“Oh, Siodhachan,” he said, shaking his head in despair. “Are you going to tell me that everything’s worse? Hasn’t the world gotten better in two thousand years?”
The bartender arrived with our shots and beers, and I thanked him. “Some things have improved dramatically,” I said, looking down at our drinks.
“What’s this, then?” My archdruid scowled at the glasses, distrust writ large on his face.
“A sampling of Ireland’s genius,” I replied, and switched to English for the next sentence. “Whiskey and stout.” I picked up the shot glass and returned to Old Irish. “Begin with this and toss it down.
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