maybe it was a little disgusting.
We met up with Arach, Roarke, Anna, and the Phooka parents, Neala and Righ. All three couples looked thoroughly chastised and slumped over to sit near Granuaile on the other benches that were set around the outskirts of the playground. I felt a little bad for raining on their parade, especially since I'd just come from, well, coming. But I wasn't about to leave the realm while our children were only attended by one nanny. That was just asking for more trouble.
“You six owe Granuaile your gratitude,” I said to the parents. “She's in charge of watching over my sons, not your children.”
“Aw, come on, V,” Roarke grumbled. “Hunter's old enough to take care of himself.”
“I'm not going over this argument again,” I snapped. “You know as well as I do that those children can get into a world of trouble on their own and you left Granuaile to deal with them all by herself. And she's not even a mother. Now, thank her!”
They murmured their thanks to Granuaile.
“I understand,” Granuaile said graciously. “I have felt the mating call myself. But the children are more important.”
That, of course, made the parents feel worse.
“You are getting a bonus this month, Granuaile,” I declared.
“A bonus?” she asked.
“Something special in addition to your pay. Commission a piece of jewelry with the Pixies, and tell them that we'll pay for it.”
“Thank you, Queen Vervain.” Granuaile bowed her head to me.
“Thank you for being responsible when even I have found myself distracted. I'm impressed with your fortitude,” Arach said to her. “Now, we must be off. Brevyn! Rian!”
Our boys came running over with Dexter and Deidre, our nurials. The nurials were father and daughter—fey animals with the bodies of lions, fox-like faces, six slender legs, barbed tails, ebony fur, crimson eyes, and, in the case of the males, horns and a thick ruff of fur around their long necks. Dexter shook his head, flopping his big ears about, and nuzzled my hand. I stroked him lovingly, he was like another child to me; I'd raised him from a pup. Soon, his fur and eyes would change color for winter, going snowy white and pale blue respectively.
“We must attend to some things in the Human Realm,” Arach said sternly. “We should be back momentarily but just in case we aren't, you two will obey Granuaile.”
“But, Dad,” Rian whined, “we don't need a babysitter.”
“She's your guardian for now, not a babysitter,” I said. “And you will be on your best behavior for her, do you understand me?”
“Yes, Mother,” Brevyn said serenely, one arm around Dexter's long neck.
Deidre nudged Rian with her sleek face as if prompting him.
“Yes, Mother,” Rian said obediently.
“Thank you.” I crouched down and opened my arms.
They both came into my embrace with the nurials circling us happily, their red eyes alight.
“I'll miss you both. Be careful while I'm gone. Something strange is happening here.”
“We noticed,” Rian grumbled. “All the grown-ups are acting weird.”
“Leave them be,” I said. “You've got Granuaile and the other parents now. You should be fine.”
Dexter nudged me.
“And Dex and Deidre,” I added with a laugh. “Look after our babies, Dex.”
He yipped as I stood up.
Arach bent down and hugged each boy. “All right, you can go back to your friends now. But remember that you are princes and the kingdom is under your care while your mother and I are gone. Act accordingly.”
“Yes, Father!” The boys said proudly. They ran back to the playground with the nurials trailing after them.
Chapter Six
Thankfully, Granuaile wasn't the only responsible Fire Faerie in the kingdom. Nothing could shake Isleen's sense of duty and she was even able to wrangle some Phookas to pull our carriage in their horse-form. She also managed to get a few Red Caps to stop their activities and escort us to the Great Tree. I don't know what she had to witness to accomplish those tasks and I hoped to never find out. Before we left, Arach asked Isleen to see to the wayfarer in case he didn't make it back in time. Then we finally left for the Great Tree.
There was only one way—if you didn't count possible paths that we missed—to get into or out of Tír na nÓg—the proper name of the Faerie Realm—and that was tracing. Tracing is the magical way of traveling from one place to another by sending your body in the form of pure thought through the Aether—a realm between the realms. You can direct a trace either