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We just had to hope that if the long black hands did belong to a godling, it was male not female.

Our meals came and we moved on to other subjects. The news reports continued to show scenes of destruction, but it did seem the five-minute warning had resulted in most people getting out in time.

Maybe our mad elves had a limit as to how many innocent lives they’d take.

While there was a part of me absolutely doubted that would be true, another part—the same one that steadfastly refused to remember my relationship with Ka-hal or Halak or whatever the hell his real name was—couldn’t believe I’d get involved with someone so inherently evil.

And yet, I obviously had, given what Lugh had said about him hitting me.

So, what the hell was going on? Why couldn’t I remember either the event or him? Had I been so traumatized that I’d simply pushed any memory of it away?

Maybe.

And maybe something else was going on. I’d always had a fairly good radar when it came to that sort of thing, and while I had over the years gotten involved with a few shady characters who at first had seemed perfect—too perfect, as it had turned out—I still remembered their faces, if not all their names. And they’d never been evil in the way these two were. Revenge was one thing but this—this was another plane entirely.

We made plans to meet at six the next morning, which would get us to Gruama just before the sun rose. I had no desire to be roaming through tunnels in darkness, but at least if we headed out early, it’d be more obvious if someone followed us. Given what I’d heard in the vision, it was pretty obvious they’d found some means of keeping an eye on my movements.

Cynwrig and I spent an hour or two partying in one of the too-small beds before he moved into the other and almost instantly fell asleep.

I, however, stayed awake for entirely too long, haunted by feelings of betrayal and uncertainty. Not only had Mom been double-crossed by someone she’d known, but it was also very possible the very same thing was happening to me.

But by who?

No one in my small circle of close friends—and even smaller circle of lovers—would do something like that. I was utterly certain of that, if nothing else.

But what if I was wrong?

I scrubbed a hand across my eyes. Fear, doubt, and uncertainty were probably natural in this sort of situation, but I couldn’t let them overtake me. Besides, when I’d found Egeria’s coin—a token dedicated to the goddess of wisdom and good fortune, and one that had been in my family for generations—abandoned at the entrance to the tunnel in which Mom had been killed, I’d gotten no sense that her betrayer had been someone truly close to her. She’d definitely trusted him—or her—and had some sort of working relationship with them, but that was it.

Nothing in that recent vision had suggested they had a spy within my circle even if they did have one within the council. As for the bait—that could be anything. Hell, for all we knew, they had someone working at the museum, and the bait they were talking about was the notes Eljin had found amongst the papers on Nialle’s desk.

That was a far more likely scenario than anyone on this quest betraying me.

Still, the unsettling knowledge that there were undercurrents in my life that I couldn’t yet see but would eventually cause turmoil would not be ignored, and it was well after midnight before I finally found some sleep.

Cynwrig pulled off the narrow road and stopped the SUV. On the opposite side was the long strip of rough land that separated Doo Lough from its smaller partner. A meandering gravel path followed the edges of the lough and then moved off toward a mountain Google informed me was part of the Mweelrea Range. The peak directly ahead of us resembled a conical volcano that had lost a good portion of one side. But that peak hadn’t been a volcano, and that lost section wasn’t the result of some sort of lateral explosion. Not of lava, anyway. It was the result of a furious god melting away the rock and stone.

This was Gruama.

Or rather, what remained of it.

The land between the road and Gruama was wild-looking, the ground covered in rubble and grasses that were green and high. It was going to be a long, unpleasant hike. Thankfully, Lugh had dropped by the tavern to collect my hiking boots before we’d all gotten onto the plane, so at least I wouldn’t be crossing the terrain in less-than-suitable gear.

After we’d donned our coats and backpacks, Cynwrig locked the SUV, tucked the keys out of sight under the front wheel arch, then led the way across the fields and up the mountain.

It was every bit as tiresome and tedious as I’d feared. By the time we’d reached the breach in the bowl-like top of the mountain, I’d stripped off both my coat and sweater—something I’d no doubt regret once we got inside.

I shrugged off my pack, took a drink, and then tore open one of the trail bars Lugh had packed for us, munching on it contemplatively as I studied the wide bowl. Though it was now strewn with boulders and solidified rivers of black stone, it wasn’t without vegetation. Aside from the grasses and compact shrubs, the straggly remnants of once beautiful trees sang wistfully of a time filled with plentiful growth. This place had once been a well-tended and very large garden.

Cynwrig stopped beside me. “Are you doing okay?”

“Considering how unfit I am, yes.”

A wicked smile tugged at his lips. “There are varying types of fitness, and yours definitely lies in other areas.”

I snorted and nudged him lightly. “Where was the entrance before the shield took out this part of the mountain?”

He nodded to the right, where a wall of black rock reared up a good hundred feet. From where we stood, it actually looked like a frozen waterfall. “There was a long, well-guarded tunnel leading into this forecourt area.”