The Librarian and the Beast of Dún-attach

by pebble/scifipony

Fandom: The Librarian
Characters: Flynn Carsen, Excalibur, Judson, Charlene
Words: 17,192
Tags: Adventure, Time Travel, Friendship, Action, Mild Hurt/Comfort
Warnings: None
Author's Notes: This was originally written for the 2024 Librarians Gift Exchange. My recipient asked for a fic with Flynn and Excalibur that involved time travel.

Quick Disclaimer: I'm not a historian. I did a lot of research while writing this fic, but I'm assuming there are still going to be at least a few inaccuracies. It's based pretty heavily in Irish mythology rather than historical records, so expect some things to be a little off. Apologies in advance for any butchering of the Old Irish language. (Also, I'm aware Excalibur wouldn't be called by that name at this point in history, but I still have the locals call him that for the sake of simplicity.)

Having been at this whole Librarian thing for over a year now, it was no longer a surprise to Flynn when he would find himself waking up in an unfamiliar location with a throbbing head and no memory of how he got there. If anything, he was simply impressed at how well his brain still functioned, given the ridiculous number of concussions he’d suffered.

What did surprise him about this particular instance was that he actually could remember exactly what he’d been doing before waking up in this grassy field. And, for once, it hadn’t been fighting some villain intent on destroying the world, or being chased by monsters from ancient myths. He’d been having a completely ordinary day. In fact, he’d been helping Judson sort out some of the ancient Celtic artifacts in the Library’s archives.

How exactly had a routine cataloguing attempt ended up with him lying in an empty field with the headache to end all headaches? He had no idea. And the adventurous part of his soul found that instantly exciting.

Finally daring to sit up, Flynn pushed himself off the ground slowly, groaning as his head throbbed angrily at the change in position. Squinting against the sun in his eyes, he took quick stock of his surroundings.

As previously noted, he appeared to be completely alone in an empty field. The grass under him was long and soft, with a rich color that he wasn’t used to seeing, given the more arid climates he tended to frequent in his travels. Rocks of varying size dotted the landscape everywhere. The gently rolling ground sloped upward in all directions, leaving him in a small valley surrounded by thickly forested hillsides.

A glint of sunlight reflected off something near his feet and Flynn glanced down in surprise. He immediately had to amend his previous observation about the situation. He wasn’t, in fact, alone in the field.

“Cal?”

The sword whimpered pitifully as it tried to levitate itself over to him. It made it most of the way, letting out a sharp gasp at it fell the last few feet. Reacting quickly, Flynn reached out and caught Excalibur as gently as he could, carefully laying the sword across his lap to rest.

“Let me guess,” he said, “Headache? Or, whatever the equivalent for you would be.”

His only response was another pained whimper.

“Alright, buddy, just take it easy for a few minutes.”

Excalibur’s presence both cleared up some of the mystery and provided a whole new one. Flynn was starting to remember some of what happened at the Library before blacking out, and he distinctly remembered the sword being right next to him. So, whatever happened to get him here, must have happened to Excalibur as well.

He pushed through the pain in his head and forced his photographic memory to bring up images of those final moments in the Library.

“Cal, I might have a theory on what’s going on,” he said, mostly because he often found it helpful to think out loud, and also partly to soothe some of the anxiety he could practically feel radiating off his friend. “That artifact I was holding right before… well, we ended up here… I think it did something to us. I remember trying to translate the inscription on it. And then it started to let out this weird humming noise.” He glanced around the field again, waving a hand to emphasize his point, “And then we were here. Somehow, that artifact must have teleported us to this location.”

Excalibur let out a questioning whine, which wasn’t hard to interpret.

“That’s an excellent question. Where is here? Let’s see…”

Flynn gently set the sword on the grass and pushed himself to his feet. A wave of dizziness almost knocked him back to the ground, but it passed quickly. Turning in a slow circle, the Librarian carefully studied everything within his field of view. The species of grass and moss, the type of rock scattered about, the various scents drifting on the breeze. All of them pieces to the equation running through his mind. After a moment, he tilted his head back to examine the sky, the cloud formations, and the angle of the setting sun.

“Hmm, okay,” he muttered after a few silent minutes of puzzling it out. “That’s strange. We seem to be in the British Isles. I’d almost definitely say Ireland, but those trees—” he pointed at the forested hills around them “—they’re not right for this region.”

He frowned at the landscape again, continuing to mull it over in his head. He wasn’t used to being stumped by geography. No matter where he ended up on the globe, it was usually a relatively simple task for him to pinpoint his exact location — or very close to it, at least.

“I think we need to do a little exploring,” he announced after another few minutes. “We should try to locate some shelter, or ideally a town, before it starts getting too dark. Are you feeling up for some travel?”

Excalibur let out a sound that almost resembled a sigh, but did manage to levitate himself off the ground. Flynn put his hand out and let the sword land on it with a tired thud.

“Okay, why don’t I carry you for a while until you get your bearings again?”

Receiving no argument to the suggestion, Flynn adjusted his grip on Excalibur’s hilt to carry him a little easier against his side. Something he rarely thought about anymore, but was certainly helpful in situations such as this, was the fact that Excalibur barely weighed anything in his hands. Whatever magic dictated who was deemed worthy to wield the sword must also make it light and easy to handle for those few lucky individuals.

The climb out of the valley went faster than he expected. The ground, while scattered with rocks and shrubbery, wasn’t too steep and Flynn had no difficulty navigating a safe path up the hillside.

His headache was also completely gone now. Flynn saw this as another piece of evidence to support his theory that they had been affected by an artifact’s magic. Based off his own past experience, head injuries tended to keep on hurting for an annoyingly long time as they healed. Magic, on the other hand, often seemed to obey its own arbitrary rules outside of the realm of known science.

They crested the top of the hill and found themselves looking out over a sweeping lowland, surrounded by more forested hills in every direction. Farms and pastures were scattered haphazardly in small clearings all throughout the area. And, not far from the base of the hill they were currently standing on, a village.

“Well, that was easy enough,” Flynn commented, relieved that they wouldn’t have to navigate unknown territory in the dark. They still had a good hour or so of sunlight left, and the village wasn’t far off. “Hopefully someone down there has a map and a cellphone we can borrow.”

Excalibur tugged lightly against Flynn’s grip and he immediately released him. The sword floated up beside him, surveying the territory they were about to travel into. Flynn knew Excalibur tended to be highly security conscious, so he didn’t mind giving him a few moments to assess the situation.

He had to admit, the scenery was gorgeous. The ground was a rich dark color and covered in vibrant green grass. Many of the open spaces and hills were filled with swathes of wild flowers. The setting sun cast everything in a deep, warm light. He’d been to a wide variety of locations over the past year, but there was something especially beautiful and tranquil about this place.

“Looks safe enough,” he said after a minute, starting off down the hill. “And either way,” he called back over his shoulder, “it’s kind of our only option at the moment.”

Whether he agreed or not, Excalibur quickly hurried to catch up, falling into place beside his friend. At least he seemed to be feeling more like himself. Flynn wasn’t sure what they were about to get themselves into, but it certainly made him feel better knowing he had backup if things turned dangerous.

They came across a road at the base of the hill. It was roughly made, barely more than a wide dirt trail, and Flynn had to wonder how anyone was able to drive on it. Still, it clearly marked their route for them, so they followed alongside it towards their destination.

The sun was almost gone from sight behind the trees by the time they walked into the outer parts of the village. The first structures they came across were tiny and could barely classify as buildings. They were built mostly from wood, with a few dug straight into tall mounds of earth. It was a loose grouping of dwellings, with some people moving about, but nowhere near the size of a typical town.

A young man was outside one of closest structures, in the process of unloading firewood from a cart. The small, shaggy pony hooked to the cart further supported Flynn’s guess about their location, although it didn’t fully resemble the breeds of pony he knew to be most common in this country. Interesting.

“Cal, I think you should hang back out of sight for a little bit,” Flynn suggested. “Probably not a great idea to let everyone see a magic sword from centuries-old myths floating around.” When the sword hesitated, he added, “I’ll be fine. And I’ll call you if there’s any trouble.”

Although it was clear he wasn’t happy about the idea, Excalibur backed off obediently, ducking around the corner of the building behind them.

The villager with the cart spotted him a moment later and raised a hand in greeting. He opened his mouth and spoke… in a language that was clearly not English.

‘Okay,’ Flynn thought, ‘obviously my guess was a little off about our location.’

The language was vaguely familiar to him, though, so that was a good sign. The words themselves were familiar, but the sound of them wasn’t, so he had to assume he’d merely read the language before and never heard it spoken. Which, given his extensive globetrotting adventures these past couple years, that actually did narrow it down quite a bit.

He needed more to work with if he was going to decipher what language he was hearing, so Flynn offered his own wave of greeting and called out, “Hello! I think I’m a bit lost here. Any chance you speak English?”

The confused expression on the man’s face was answer enough. Another string of only somewhat recognizable words followed shortly after.

A few words jumped out to him that sounded similar to, but not quite like…

“Wait, hold on. That’s Irish,” he said, unintentionally cutting off whatever the poor guy was trying to tell him. “No, that’s not quite it. But it's close.” Realizing the stranger was still staring at him as if he was losing his mind, Flynn tried, “Uh… Gaeilge? Gaelainn?”

Not getting any sign of recognition from the man, a sudden realization hit Flynn. Something that should be impossible. Something that he hoped was impossible.

On the other hand, all the little clues he’d seen since waking up were starting to fall into place now. The unusually dense forestation, the strange buildings, the crude road leading in here, the man’s clothes, even the pony being not exactly what he would expect for the region. It all made sense now.

Deciding to gamble on his hunch being correct, Flynn tried again, this time in the language he was pretty sure the man was speaking, “Sorry, I’m not from around here. I’m traveling through the area and ended up a bit lost.”

To both his relief and dismay, the man responded back immediately, and Flynn was better able to translate it in his head now that he had the correct frame of reference.

“Ah, a traveler, huh? I could have guessed as much, from your strange clothes and that accent. Where are you from then?”

“Um… very far away,” Flynn muttered in reply, his mind racing to consider all the possible implications of this new knowledge.

The man was speaking a form of Irish… just one that went extinct many centuries ago. Either this remote village had somehow not evolved their language, culture, or lifestyle in the last fifteen hundred years, or Flynn was currently standing in early medieval Ireland.

Well, that sucked. Flynn really hated time travel.

“Look, I got onto the wrong road awhile back and ended up pretty far off my route,” he said. “Any chance there’s a…” He paused as he debated whether he was too far back in history for an inn to be likely. Finally, he settled on a more neutral option. “…a place I can stay for the night?”

The man eyed him carefully for a moment, as if trying to determine how dangerous he might be — for once, Flynn found himself grateful for the fact that he really didn’t look all that intimidating.

The man finally nodded. “Well, the abbey here is a bit full at the moment. But you’re welcome to spend the night at my home. Providing you don’t mind pitching in with some of the work; we have the cattle to bring in still and it’s nearly dark already.”

Relieved, Flynn agreed readily. “That sounds great. Thank you.”

“No need for thanks,” the man waved it off. “My family will be happy to have you. The name is Niall, by the way.”

“Flynn.”

“Well, Flynn, if you’ll just wait here a short while, I have some business to finish up real quick and my brother to retrieve. Then I can take you to my farmstead. Can you look after my cart for me?”

“No problem.”

Flynn stepped in beside the pony, taking the lead rope from Niall. The animal let out a gentle huff and reached around to nuzzle against the newcomer. Flynn smiled and rubbed the pony’s nose in greeting. While he wasn’t exactly used to handling horses, he did have a little practice from helping look after the unicorn in the Library.

Niall laughed at how quickly the pony seemed to take to Flynn. “Well,” he joked, “They say animals are a decent judge of character, so I guess it’s safe to trust you. Wait here a moment and I’ll be right back.”

He headed off down the main road, towards a large wooden building that Flynn guessed was the church.

Some of the other locals were milling about, and several were shooting curious glances at Flynn. No doubt he looked very odd to them. Glancing down at himself, he realized that his pants weren’t too bad, but the shirt, jacket, and sneakers probably stuck out like a sore thumb in this time period. He could at least explain his accent and some of the strangeness of his appearance with being a foreigner, but he really needed to figure when exactly he’d ended up so he could better blend in.

“Look out!” a voice suddenly cried out.

Flynn spun around to see someone running at full speed into the cluster of buildings, eyes wide in panic. The man was mostly out of breath, but still managed to shout at everyone he passed, “Get indoors! Hurry!”

The pony let out a scared whinny and Flynn had to take a firmer hand on the rope to keep it from spooking. He petted it in an attempt to calm it down. From the way the poor animal’s panic seemed to only be growing, it was clear it had sensed some danger beyond the screaming man running up the road.

As the man raced past Flynn’s spot, he called out to him, “What’s going on?”

But he didn’t pause or even acknowledge the question, continuing his mad dash towards the church.

The other locals were racing about now as well, quickly gathering up whatever tasks they’d been working on and getting themselves locked away inside the buildings. The dozen or so people who were still outside were all in a full blown panic now, hurrying to follow the others to safety.

“What’s happening?” Flynn called out to one of the women who was dashing by.

She didn’t slow down, but did call back over her shoulder, “Píast dorchae! It’s coming here!”

There wasn’t a chance to ask for further clarification before she was gone. Flynn frowned as he tried to figure out the term she’d used. She was talking about something dark, but that was as far as he got before the air was split with a blood-curdling screech.

The cry was like nothing he’d ever heard before. It was high and shrieking, but somehow also so deep that he felt it reverberate through his bones. The wood buildings rattled as the air shook with the sound of it. It wasn’t human — or anything natural, for that matter.

The pony pulled hard against his grip, terrified beyond control. At this point, there wasn’t much hope of calming it. Flynn redirected his focus to making sure it didn’t hurt itself in its panic. He quickly unhooked the frightened animal from the cart and let out its lead, keeping a tight grip on the end of the rope so he didn’t lose it entirely.

Another shriek filled the air, this time much closer, and everyone still in the street froze. Flynn quickly spun around to see what they were all gaping at.

Charging out of the forest was a creature straight from the mythology books in the Library. It was a massive beast with a long neck and a vaguely dragon-like build. The oily black scales seemed to absorb all light around it, casting it in a gloomy haze.

The creature’s head reared back and it let out another scream, this one loud enough that Flynn’s ears were left ringing. It shook its head angrily and narrowed its gaze on the people frozen in fear. It was in motion again the next breath, its low-slung body almost slithering over the ground as the creature’s enormous claws tore up the earth in its path.

Everyone was screaming and running in every direction. There was pure chaos for the next several seconds as people got in each other’s way and livestock scattered in terror.

Flynn’s heart dropped as the beast seemed to zero in on two young children who were cowered against a wall in pure shock. They weren’t about to move, and everyone else was too focused on escaping to pull them out of the way.

Before he’d even let go of the pony’s lead and started forward, Flynn knew this probably wasn’t the smartest move he could make. On the other hand, he didn’t have time to formulate an actual plan.

Running out into the middle of the street, Flynn waved his arms and yelled as loud as he could to draw the creature’s attention. It worked.

It halted its charge and immediately seemed to forget its original targets. The head swiveled around on its serpentine neck, massive cat-like eyes boring into him as it sized him up. Flynn had to assume he didn’t look like much of a threat to it. Well, that could certainly be fixed.

He whistled sharply, letting out a quick call of, “Cal, come!”

Excalibur must have heard the commotion and already been on his way. Within the span of a few heartbeats, the sword was flying into his hand, hilt fitting perfectly into his grip as it always did.

The beast lurched backwards several paces, letting out a furious snarl. It bared its fangs at Flynn and hissed. The long tail twitched restlessly, as if it wasn’t sure whether to lunge forward in attack or turn and run.

Flynn decided to take advantage of its current uncertainty. He raised Excalibur as if preparing to strike and lunged forward, yelling at the beast as he did so. It recoiled back again in response. Flynn didn’t particularly want to hurt the animal, but he did make a few warning slashes toward it, hoping it would take the hint. Apparently it did. Terrifying eyes burned in fury as it glared down at him for a few more seconds. Then, the beast abruptly turned and slithered off into the darkness.

Several loud cheers and relieved shouts sprang up from the crowd. The ones who had gone into hiding quickly reemerged and joined the ones who’d been watching from the sidelines. There were a few moments of palpable relief from everyone as they congratulated each other and exchanged a few hugs. But the pleasant atmosphere of the gathering didn’t last long before a noticeable shift began to happen.

Flynn glanced around to find the majority of the crowd now gathered much closer around him. They were all staring at him in a mix of awe and confusion. A few murmured exchanges rippled through the group, but he couldn’t hear any of them clearly enough to know what was going on.

Most of their stares were directed at Excalibur, still resting in Flynn’s hand. And, okay, he could maybe see where it would be concerning to witness a flying magic sword. It wasn’t exactly an everyday sight for most people. Then again, this town apparently had mythical beasts attacking it on a regular basis, so who knows?

The murmurs from the crowd were getting louder and more frequent as the initial shock seemed to be wearing off. Several took a few cautious steps forward, and Flynn tensed automatically, not sure yet what was happening. Then he picked up on one very familiar word that seemed to be included in many of the hushed exchanges.

One of the men in the group confirmed his suspicion by taking a few brave steps toward Flynn and pointing at the sword. “Excalibur?” he asked, tone somewhere between disbelief and hope.

Oh. Yeah, that actually made sense. King Arthur wouldn’t be that distant of a memory for this era. These people probably grew up hearing tales from their grandparents about the legendary king and his mythical sword — including what Excalibur looked like.

“But… how?” one of the onlookers asked.

Well, this presented an entirely new problem. According to myth, Excalibur was returned to the Lady of the Lake after Arthur’s final battle. There were no accounts, in either history or legends, of the sword making a sudden reappearance so soon after Arthur’s death. Certainly not in Ireland, at any rate. He didn’t see any way out of this without severely damaging the timeline.

As if to prove the situation could indeed get worse, one of the women from the crowd suddenly asked, “Are you Arthur returned, then?” A ripple of excited exclamations spread through the gathering as soon as the words were out.

Excalibur let out a disgruntled noise at that and quickly extracted himself from Flynn’s grip, using his hilt to give his friend a hard nudge in the shoulder.

In complete agreement with him, Flynn quickly shook his head. “No! Definitely not Arthur.”

“But, you can wield his sword,” someone pointed out unhelpfully.

It was technically a valid point. Unfortunately, Flynn didn’t see any way to tell them the truth about his acquiring Excalibur without also mentioning that he was from the distant future — something he had to assume wouldn’t be received well.

“Uh, he was sort of a… gift?”

“Oh!” one woman jumped in. “You’re on a quest for Arthur?”

Hmm. Well, it was certainly a better explanation than anything he was going to be able to make up in the next few seconds. And hopefully vague enough to keep from messing up the Arthurian legends — which, at this point in history, probably haven’t even been written yet.

Niall broke through the crowd, looking more than a little shocked with the turn of events. “Flynn? Are you okay? I heard the beast and came as soon as I could.”

“I’m fine,” he assured him.

“He defeated the Beast of Dún-attach single-handed!” one of the crowd announced proudly.

Flynn shook his head. “That’s not quite how it—”

“And he used King Arthur’s sword to do it!” someone else jumped in.

Several more voices joined the fray, all quick to add their own details — most of them not at all accurate — to the recounting. Flynn quickly gave up trying to get a word in. He looked over at Excalibur for assistance, who simply made an amused noise and did nothing to help him out.

After a few minutes of confused shouting back and forth, Niall managed to settle the crowd down. “Alright,” he said, after the other voices had quieted. “The beast never attacks twice in one night, so we’re safe now. Let’s all get back to work, shall we?”

The people did start to disperse, continuing their excited discussions in smaller groups and pairs as they moved off to their chores.

“Thanks,” Flynn breathed out in relief. “That got a bit intense.”

“Well, it’s to be expected, being a celebrity and all,” Niall said, an amused glint in his eyes. “I leave you for ten minutes and you manage to jump from random stranger to local hero. That’s quite the feat.”

Flynn laughed and shook his head. “Completely unintentional, I promise.” He motioned to Excalibur and added, “Oh, this is my friend Cal. Cal, this is Niall. He’s letting us stay with him for the night. That is, if you haven’t changed your mind?”

“And turn away the man who saved us from Áinfean? That wouldn’t be very grateful of me, would it?” Niall waved to another man who was approaching with the escaped pony. “That’s my brother. We’ll just get our horse hitched back up and be on our way.”

Feeling a little bad for having lost the pony in the first place, Flynn happily pitched in to help get the cart ready for travel again. Within minutes, they were bidding the locals farewell and setting off down the road.

As they walked, Flynn asked, “So, what was that creature? You called it Áinfean.”

Niall nodded, his good nature dimming for the first time since Flynn had first encountered him. “That monster has been terrorizing the area for weeks now. Some call it the Beast of Dún-attach. Some of us have taken to calling it Áinfean, given the way it looks like a stormy cloud on the ocean, and how it seems to stick near to water when its not trying to kill everything in sight.”

“And you said it only showed up recently?”

“Before that, we’d never laid eyes on the thing. Now it regularly haunts the boglands and marshes. It hides in the bogs during the day and only comes out after the sun has started to set, usually not even until nightfall.” His tone took on a note of frustration as he added, “It’s been killing cattle all across the valley. If someone doesn’t find a way to kill Áinfean soon, that beast will leave us all starving this winter.”

His brother jumped in with some of the local folklore that had already sprung up about it. “They say Áinfean can appear in any body of water across the wetlands. He won’t attack you when he’s in the water, but some of the people around here are still scared to walk anywhere near the bogs, even when the sun is high in the sky. Pretty soon, no one will be brave enough to step foot in so much as a puddle.”

He didn’t ask any more questions on it for now, but Flynn found his curiosity piqued by this information. Why had this creature appeared out of nowhere to start a cattle raiding spree? And why had it acted so strangely at the abbey tonight? It was a puzzle — and he’d always had a hard time turning down a good puzzle.

The last of the evening light was almost gone by the time they reached Niall’s farmstead. A high earthen bank surrounded the main farm, with the pastures and crops spread out on either side. Within the enclosure, several wooden buildings served as housing, with livestock pens and storage sheds scattered around them.

Some of the family members greeted them at the main gate and accompanied them inside. Flynn knew it was common in this era for extended families to all live together on the same land, but he was still surprised at how many people were present. They excitedly listened to Niall and his brother relate the story of the incident with Áinfean. They were immediately intrigued by the news, and barraged Flynn with a million questions. He felt it was a little ridiculous, considering the actual ‘fight’ had lasted for all of thirty seconds, but tried to politely answer as many as he could.

“Ciara, why don’t you show Flynn where he can sleep for the night?” Niall said to one of his sisters. “We’ll go make sure the livestock is brought in for the night.”

“I’d be happy to help with that,” Flynn volunteered. “I’m not exactly experienced with herding cattle, but I can do my best.”

“No, don’t worry about it,” one of the cousins reassured him. “You’ve earned your rest. We’ve got it under control.”

Afraid of seeming ungrateful for their hospitality, Flynn was forced to give in. He let the sister, Ciara, lead him to one of the smaller houses. She found him some clean bedding and got him set up with a cot that actually didn’t look too uncomfortable despite its crude construction.

Once they were alone, Flynn sat on the cot with a tired sigh. It had certainly been a much more eventful day than he’d anticipated — considering it had started with a routine cataloguing task in the Library’s archives.

Excalibur made a questioning grunt and Flynn shook his head.

“I have no idea, buddy. We’ll have to do some more digging in the morning, to see if we can figure out what brought us to this time period. But for now… I think we’re stuck here.”

~~~~~~~~~~

They were up far too early the next morning, especially considering the rather eventful preceding night.

The family was up with the first pre-dawn light, all hurrying about to get the day’s work started.

Flynn, not wanting to completely sponge off the family, happily volunteered to help with the morning chores. Apparently the cattle herds were brought in at night to protect them and then turned loose again the next morning. Niall and a few of the cousins recruited him to help with turning them out to pasture.

This proved a better idea in theory than in practice. He’d never even owned a goldfish growing up; tending to several herds of cattle was another matter altogether. Thankfully, Niall proved a very patient teacher. Between the two of them, they were able to get their portion of the stock released into the lower pastures before the sun had fully cleared the horizon.

Fortunately, what knowledge he lacked in animal husbandry, he more than made up for in the field of Arthurian mythology. As they worked, Niall peppered him with a constant barrage of questions about Excalibur, knights, and sword fighting. All of which he was happy to answer. Talking about any of his fields of study was always a welcome distraction.

They were turning the last of their cows out to pasture when a voice suddenly called out to them. A man was running up the road towards them at full speed. He veered off the road as he approached, completely out of breath when he finally skidded to a halt in front of them. Flynn recognized him from the crowd at the abbey the night before.

“You alright there, Iobhar?” Niall asked.

The man took a few more deep breaths to recover before panting out, “It’s the rí túaithe! He’s sent for you.”

Niall stiffened. “What? What could he want with me?”

“Well, not you, exactly,” Iobhar said, finally getting his breathing a little more under control. He pointed at Flynn, “It’s your new friend there. Word of what happened at the abbey last night has reached Dún-attach, and Brion wants you to bring the traveler to him immediately.”

Given the urgent energy from Iobhar and the pure shock in Niall’s expression, Flynn had to guess whatever was happening wasn’t the best of news. He desperately wracked his brain for a translation of that word he hadn’t recognized. Túaithe sounded close enough to tuath, but they were already pretty well into the countryside out here, so that didn’t seem right… no, wait. The Old Irish version of the word didn’t mean countryside. Túatha were jurisdictional provinces in medieval Ireland. And rí was…

“The king?” Flynn asked in surprise, earning confused glances from the other two. “Why does he want to see me?”

Iobhar stared at him as if the answer should have been obvious. “The Beast of Dún-attach has been plaguing the community for weeks. It’s already snatched cattle and horses from our farms, and the few unfortunate souls that tried to take it down. And now suddenly a stranger appears out of nowhere, wielding Arthur’s sword, and chases the beast off without any trouble. Can you blame him for wanting to meet you in person?”

“It’s okay, lad,” Niall said, patting Flynn’s arm reassuringly. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.” He nodded his thanks to his friend. “We’ll just tell the rest of the family, and then we’ll be on our way.”

“You might want to be quick. With everything going on lately, Brion isn’t in any mood to be kept waiting,” Iobhar said. He waved a farewell as he turned back toward the road. “Good luck to you both.”

‘Well, that doesn’t feel ominous at all,’ Flynn thought nervously. How did he always seem to end up being targeted by dangerous people without even doing anything?

Niall sighed. “I’ll run up to the house real quick and tell the others,” he said. “And I’ll grab us some water and food for the road.”

It wasn’t long before he returned, with two of his cousins in tow. (“The road to Dún-attach goes straight through the peat bogs. With the beast still lurking, there’s safety in numbers.”) Given the huge axe one of the cousins was carrying, Flynn had to agree with that point.

Before long, they were ready to head out. Flynn called Excalibur to come along with them. It didn’t feel like a good idea to split up when they hadn’t even figured out what had brought them here, let alone knowing how to undo it.

The sun was still low over the horizon, and hadn’t yet burned away the morning mist clinging to the ground. It created a beautiful, almost haunting effect on the landscape. Flynn could easily understand how the moors and wetlands of these islands had managed to inspire so many famous pieces of literature over the centuries. It was breathtaking.

Of course, he didn’t waste the whole journey sightseeing. Flynn used the long walk as an opportunity to pry a little more information from Niall about the man they were going to be meeting. The idea of pissing off the king on his first day in the community wasn’t appealing.

He’d read some research papers and taken one course on the early medieval period in the British Isles, but Irish history in particular had never been a specific focus of his studies. Still, he did remember enough to help get a sense of what to expect. He knew the rí túaithe, while technically a king, only ruled on a local level, usually with a relatively small number of subjects under them. Usually they reported to a higher king that ruled over the whole area, who also in turn reported to a higher king, and on up the ladder. Flynn didn’t know exactly what time period he’d landed in, so he had no idea if Ireland had established the rule of the High King yet, and he couldn’t help being curious. If not for the urgent need to get home without altering the timeline, he would be fully tempted to go see the High King’s seat of power at Tara for himself.

“Brion has been a good ruler for us,” Niall explained as they walked. “A firm ruler, and not one for shows of leniency, but he’s as fair as they come. Until recently, everyone has been very happy with him in charge. But lately… Well, it’s understandable why some folks are starting to grow concerned about his leadership. This matter with the beast has been weighing heavily on Brion — it’s his job to keep his people safe, after all.”

“Has anything like it been seen around here before?”

“Not in generations. There’s some tales about the old days, but nothing in recent years. Some of the superstitious folks have been saying the king must have done something to bring it on our community.”

Flynn was certainly not a superstitious person, but his experience as the Librarian had taught him that if something felt a little too coincidental to be true, it probably needed further investigation. Whether related to the king or not, it seemed likely that someone had done something to bring this animal out of its usual hunting grounds. To go from not being sighted by the community at all to repeated aggressive attacks — including charging straight into a crowd of people last night — didn’t feel right.

“Has anyone tried to track it down?” he asked curiously.

One of the cousins jumped in, “The whole community organized a couple hunting parties to take down Áinfean back when it first showed up, but it fights like nothing I’ve ever seen. A monster born of your worst nightmares.”

Beside them, Excalibur let out a noise that sounded almost like a scoff. Flynn nodded at him in agreement. The creature certainly hadn’t been that hard to scare off at the abbey yesterday.

It was curious, though. Either the local gossip pool was responsible for greatly exaggerating the creature’s ferocity… or something more sinister might be going on. Given the way Áinfean had reacted to Excalibur’s presence, Flynn was starting to lean towards the latter explanation.

“Hold up,” the cousin in the lead said suddenly, raising her hand to signal their halt. “We’ve got company.”

Ahead on the road, a small group of people was fast approaching them. They didn’t look threatening, but Excalibur still moved in front of Flynn protectively.

Iobhar, the man who’d delivered the message that morning, was leading the group. He greeted Niall cheerfully before explaining, “Word has spread around the community about Flynn chasing off Áinfean last night. Some of your neighbors wanted a chance to meet him. And we figured we’d best go along to see what Brion has to say about the matter.”

“Well, we’ve certainly got a big enough crowd to scare off anything that tries to attack us along the way,” Niall joked. “Of course you’re all welcome to join us.”

The newcomers all moved forward to greet Flynn and introduce themselves. Being a natural introvert, Flynn was a bit overwhelmed with all the attention. There was no way he was going to remember everyone’s names, photographic memory or not.

Everyone fell into step behind the original group as they headed off again. A few more people continued to join them along the way. Every time, Flynn had to go through the increasingly more awkward process of being introduced to the newcomers and treated like some kind of celebrity. By the time the landscape changed from rolling pastures to bogland, their group had grown to about fifteen or twenty people.

Walking behind Niall towards the front of the little parade, Flynn could feel everyone’s curious stares on his back the whole way. Apparently sensing his friend’s discomfort, Excalibur hovered close by, simultaneously providing emotional support and drawing some of the attention off of Flynn.

The tree cover became denser as the landscape changed around them. The ground underfoot was the dark and spongy texture of the peat that filled the bogland. Large marshes connected by shallow waterways spread out in all directions. The air was heavy with the scent of decaying plant matter.

He studied it all as they walked, wishing he had time to properly explore everything. Considering much of the natural forests in Ireland had been cleared by the height of the middle ages, he had to assume he was very early in the medieval period — though still late enough to be after the time of Arthur. That certainly helped narrow it down a lot.

“There it is,” Niall said, pointing ahead to a structure in the middle of a large shallow body of water. “That’s Dún-attach. It’s been the home of the rí túaithe for generations.”

As they approached the shore, Flynn squinted in the early morning light to see the structure better.

It was a modest sized building of wood and stone, with a palisade of rough timber poles surrounding the perimeter and a large gate guarding the only entrance. The whole thing rested on a small man-made island of rocks and packed earth. A bridge spanned the water between the island and the shore.

“A crannog!” Flynn said excitedly. His fatigue from the long walk was immediately forgotten as he craned his neck for a better view of the structure. “I visited an excavated crannog once while studying for my first anthropology degree. But seeing one in its original state like this is amazing!”

Beside him, Excalibur gently nudged him onward, seemingly unimpressed with the whole thing.

“Yeah, I guess none of this is new to you,” Flynn commented, obliging the sword by picking up his pace a bit. “You used to live not far from here — both in space and time. Still, it’s pretty cool to me. When am I going to have another opportunity to observe a culture that modern historians know very little about?”

The ground around them was pure marsh now, so Flynn was careful to stick to the road as they circled around to the front of the crannog. The group crossed the bridge and entered the main gate as several of the occupants came out to greet them.

Niall stepped forward to speak for them. He quickly explained their purpose there. The guards ushered them inside the main building, openly staring at Flynn and Excalibur as they passed.

Inside the great hall, the small gathering of people quickly filled the space, spreading out along the walls on both sides so everyone could see whatever happened next.

For his part, Flynn was torn between admiring the construction of the building and his fascination with the collection of treasures set up in little alcoves all around the room.

He almost did a double take as his eyes landed on one particular item. A dais at the opposite end of the hall contained a long table with chairs lining the far side of it, obviously intended for the ruling family. Behind the table, the wall contained several recessed shelves with what was probably the family heirlooms. And, sitting on the shelf at the end of the row, was a very familiar stone artifact.

“Cal,” Flynn murmured under his breath, “isn’t that the same artifact I was trying to translate back at the Library? The one I was holding before we ended up here?”

Excalibur — who never seemed to find much point in social decorum — immediately moved across the room to get a closer look at the item in question. He perked up a moment later, zipping back over excitedly. A quick bob up and down signaled his agreement before settling back in beside Flynn.

“That’s either the most improbable coincidence ever, or it’s connected to why we’re here in the first place. And I have a hunch that thing is our ticket back home.” Flynn glanced around, sizing up the number of people gathered around them. Keeping his voice low, he said, “We need to get a closer look at it. If I take another shot at translating the inscription, it could hold a clue as to what the artifact did to us.”

He wasn’t given any more time to think on it before a stirring at the other end of the great hall drew his attention.

The man he correctly guessed to be Brion entered with a small group of people trailing close behind. He was a tall and well built man who was easily in his late forties. Despite the tired lines on his face and the scars marking his arms, he had a disarmingly kind look to him as he approached.

He greeted Niall warmly, who in turn provided the formal introduction for Flynn. The king eyed him appraisingly as the introductions were made and greetings exchanged.

“So, you’re the mysterious stranger who faced down the Beast of Dún-attach yesterday?” he asked, his expression equal parts curiosity and disbelief. “Fought him off single-handed from the way the story has been told.”

“That’s not entirely accurate,” Flynn admitted. He gestured at Excalibur and added, “And I had help.”

“Ah yes.” Brion’s attention shifted to Excalibur, who tilted his hilt forward in a quick gesture of respect. “The sword of King Arthur. And how did such a legendary weapon come into your possession?”

“More of a friend than a possession, actually,” Flynn said. It was starting to get annoying how everyone kept treating Cal like an inanimate object. This was the first time they’d been out of the Library together, so he wasn’t used to seeing people other than Judson and Charlene interacting with Excalibur.

“He’s been sent on a quest by Arthur,” Niall jumped in.

“Really?” Brion asked, an amused but not quite believing look on his face. “Don’t tell me you’ve come all the way from Avalon to help us with our stolen livestock problem.”

“That was more of a lucky accident,” Flynn said. “We were sort of just passing through.”

“Lucky for us, you mean,” a young woman standing beside Brion remarked with a laugh. “You’ve certainly stirred up the community in a way we haven’t seen since that monster first appeared.”

Brion smiled and gestured to the woman as he introduced them, “This is my niece, Muirín. She hasn’t been pleased with how the people are handling the situation.”

“He means I’m angry at seeing everyone hiding like frightened sheep every time the sun starts to go down,” she shot back, though there was obvious humor under the fire.

Brion motioned to the man standing on his other side as he said, “And this is my cousin Ruarc — the tánaiste for this túath.”

Flynn exchanged greetings with the man, instantly intrigued at realizing they were working off the old tanistry system of inheritance. As the tanist, Ruarc would be the one to take over the throne in the event of Brion’s death or abdication. Once he took over, a new tanist would be elected, probably from Brion’s lineage to keep the leadership alternating between family lines.

Ruarc certainly clung to his title more than his cousin did. The man was dressed in visibly finer fabrics than the rest of the gathering and wore a large, ornate medallion around his neck. From his state of dress to the way he carried himself, it was clear he cared a lot about his social standing.

“And,” Brion continued, nodding at a young man who looked like he could be Muirín’s twin, “this is my nephew Cass.” With the introductions and greetings out of the way, Brion eyed Flynn a bit more critically. “Well, seeing as you are the first person who has been able to defeat Áinfean, maybe you have some suggestions on how to get rid of the beast for good?”

“Honestly, it didn’t put up much of a fight,” Flynn admitted. “I think it was almost as frightened of us as we were of it. Ran back into the forest without much of a protest.”

Ruarc bristled at that. “Well, then count yourself lucky,” he said. “I was there for the first of the hunting parties we sent out after it. The Beast of Dún-attach is nothing to be messed with. It tore one man right off his horse before he had time to raise his spear. Don’t underestimate what it can and will do.”

“If it was killing for food, I could at least respect that to a degree,” Cass added. “But this monster doesn’t even eat most of what it takes. It leaves dead cattle and horses wherever it attacks.”

“Really? That’s unusual behavior,” Flynn said. “I mean, most healthy animals don’t generally kill for the fun of it. Not in the wild, at least.”

Ruarc laughed roughly. “You’re assuming this creature is any kind of natural animal. Many of the people around here think Áinfean must be some kind of supernatural being. And I can’t say I disagree.”

Muirín rolled her eyes. “With talk like that, it’s no wonder the locals are all running scared. The more you make this creature out to be something unearthly, the more they’re going to panic.”

“I agree,” Brion nodded. “We have enough unchecked rumors about this creature as it is. No need to add fuel to the fire.”

Flynn glanced over at Excalibur, who understood exactly what he was considering and bobbed up and down to show his agreement. Turning back to the others, he asked, “What if someone managed to track it down?”

The entire room stilled as everyone stared at him in shock.

“Another hunting party?” Brion questioned. “It’s been tried and failed.”

“Not a party,” Flynn said. “One person, so they’ll be harder to see coming.”

“What?” Ruarc asked. “You can’t be serious. Do you have a death wish?”

“No, but I do have a theory, and I’d like a chance to test it out. And, to do that, I’ll need a much closer look at this Áinfean. Where is the most likely place to find it?”

“It doesn’t start raiding the farms until closer to sundown,” Cass told him. “This time of day, it’d be hiding in the boglands. That’s treacherous country, though, if you don’t know where you’re going.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say no to someone coming along as a guide.”

Cass shook his head, but his grin gave away how intrigued he was by the idea. “You definitely are crazy, but I guess I can’t let you get lost out there by yourself.”

“You’re both going to get yourselves killed,” Ruarc argued. “Our best hunters couldn’t take down this beast, and you two want to take it on alone?”

“I didn’t say anything about fighting it,” Flynn shrugged. “But I think I can figure out what’s making it attack the farms around here, if I could have a chance to observe it when its not on the hunt.”

Everyone looked to Brion, waiting to see what he’d think of the idea. The king frowned as he considered it for several long moments. Finally, he sighed and gave Flynn a nod of approval. “If you’re willing to accept that risk, I’ll certainly not forbid it. Who knows, maybe you’ll actually find some information that could be useful in ridding us of this threat for good.”

“This is madness,” Ruarc said angrily. He glared at Flynn. “You’re only inviting more trouble if you stir up this creature any more than it already is. You really want to chance angering it in its own lair?”

“It has to be better than doing nothing,” Muirín pointed out, resting a hand on her cousin’s shoulder. “Lately, we’ve been doing so little to fix the problem, we may as well have surrendered. We’re basically sitting around waiting for it to attack again.”

“And anyway,” Cass added, “We’re the ones accepting the risk of going. You don’t have to come along with us.”

Ruarc shrugged Muirín’s hand off, shaking his head. “Fine. If you’re too stubborn to be talked out of this, Cass, then so be it. But I’m not going to have anything to do with helping you get yourself killed.”

As he stormed off, Muirín shot an apologetic look towards Flynn. “He’s only worried. Ruarc has always been very protective of us.”

“I don’t want to start any family drama,” Flynn said. “If it’s going to cause you guys any trouble—”

“Don’t worry about it,” Cass said. “His temper usually burns out pretty quickly. Besides, you really shouldn’t go exploring the bogs by yourself.”

“Alright, it’s settled then,” Brion announced. “You’ll both try to track Áinfean down and see what you can learn about it. But, Cass—” he added, shooting his nephew a warning look “—I don’t want you tangling with that creature alone. Ruarc is right about that. Keep your distance and stay safe.”

“I will,” the young man promised.

With the matter settled, the meeting quickly broke up after that. The people began to slowly disperse, most of them having work that needed done at home. Brion himself moved off to speak with Niall, leaving Flynn with the two younger members of the ruling family.

“So, where do we start our hunt?” Flynn asked, more than ready to get started now that they had a plan of action. Or, somewhat of a plan at least.

“It’s been speculated that Áinfean lives in the marshes just south of here,” Cass explained. “That feels like the best place to begin. I need to round up some supplies for us. If you go down the main road towards the forest, you’ll come across a wide field with massive flat rocks spread across it. That’s the best place to enter the boglands. If you wait for me there, I’ll join you as soon as I can.”

Flynn nodded. “Sounds good.” He looked at Muirín. “Are you coming with us, too?”

She looked genuinely disappointed as she shook her head. “Unfortunately, I have important business to handle this afternoon. Trust me, I’d much rather be out there chasing down a monster than stuck here sorting out land disputes.”

“Surprisingly, she actually means that,” Cass laughed. “I should see you in about an hour. Don’t get killed before I get there.”

“I’ll do my best.”

As Cass headed off to track down supplies for their expedition, Flynn said his farewells to Muirín and thanked her for backing them up on their plan.

“Good luck out there,” she said in return. “And watch my brother’s back; I expect him to return here in one piece.”

He made a quick stop on the way out to say goodbye to Niall and his cousins, and thank them for their hospitality. With that done, Flynn and Excalibur exited the great hall and crossed the bridge back to the road.

The sun was much higher in the sky now. With the mist fully burned away and the air warming up, the entire landscape took on a more inviting atmosphere. Between the peaceful forests and rolling green hills, it was easy to forget that there was a mythical creature lurking out there somewhere, waiting to take its next victim.

“Come on, Cal,” Flynn said, starting off down the road. “If we’re going to be fighting a deadly monster, we have some research to do first.”

~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn’t hard to find the meeting place Cass had told them about. Barely a twenty minute walk from the crannog, they found a wide open field with large, flat-topped boulders scattered haphazardly across the surface.

They found a good vantage point that allowed them to keep an eye on the road while also being able to see anything that may approach from the marshes to their rear. Once settled, Flynn pulled open his messenger bag and retrieved a notebook so he could jot down some of his observations so far.

The beautiful surroundings and warm breeze ghosting over the rocks combined to create an almost tranquil effect. Being their first quiet moment since arriving in this time period, the pair was content to drink in the peace and calm for a while. Only the sound of Flynn’s pencil scratching over paper interrupted the serenity.

The allotted hour was soon come and gone, but they both agreed to give it some more time in case their guide had been held up in leaving the crannog.

“Alright,” Flynn said after another long stretch of silence, scribbling a few more items into his notebook as he spoke. “I can say with about ninety-six percent certainty that we are currently stuck sometime between the late 6th and early 8th centuries. And definitely in Ireland — the central western part of the island, if I had to guess.”

Resting on the other half of the boulder Flynn was currently using as a seat, Excalibur made a questioning grunt.

“Well, I can’t make a more accurate calculation than that until I have more information to work off of. The stars don’t remain stationary, unfortunately, and I have no idea what the night sky looked like in early medieval Ireland. But, yes, that is currently my best guess as to when and where we ended up. Now the question becomes why.”

He sighed and flipped his notebook shut, slipping it back into his messenger bag. While they’d been waiting here for Cass, he had taken the time to thoroughly look through his notes and research materials in the bag. Unfortunately, while most of it did relate to the archiving work he and Judson had been doing the day before, none of it contained any information directly related to the artifact that caused them to travel back in time. Which left Flynn without a lot of clues.

“Okay,” he said, leaning back on his hands and scanning the horizon again for any sign of their new friend, “I think we can assume at this point that the artifact is at the root of this problem. Somehow, activating it in the Library caused us to travel back in time to this location, where it apparently resided during this period in history. But why? And, more importantly, would activating it again here send us back to our own time, or send us even further into the past?”

What he really needed was an opportunity to inspect the object up close. It was resting in a place of honor among the other items in Brion’s collection, so he had to assume it was very important to the family. He wondered if Cass or Muirín would be willing to let him examine it. He’d need a pretty good reason, though — and one that didn’t include mentioning time travel.

Thoughts of getting back to the Library reminded him that Judson had been nearby when all this happened. Though he wasn’t standing close enough to get caught up in the time travel effect, he must have at least seen what happened.

He sighed and glanced over at Excalibur. “I think it’s probably safe to assume that Judson would have contacted us already if he could. Which would suggest that his mysterious vision abilities either can’t transmit through time, or there are rules against doing so. Either way, it looks like we’re on our own here.”

Excalibur let out an encouraging yip and nudged his hilt against Flynn’s leg.

“Well, I’m glad you’re ready for adventure,” Flynn remarked with a chuckle. “But I’m a little more concerned with getting us back to our own time period. Hopefully before we permanently mess up the space-time continuum.”

Ignoring the comment, Excalibur flew in excited circles around him, the way he usually did when he was trying to encourage Flynn to come play with him.

“Hold on, I still want to do some research on this creature we’re trying to track down. I guarantee we’ll have plenty of action soon enough.” At the sword’s disappointed whine, he asked, “Hey, you’ve been acting weird all day. What’s going on? I know this is your first time being outside the Library in a long while, but still… Oh, wait.”

He couldn’t believe he’d never considered that side of it before now. This time period must be bringing back a lot of memories for Excalibur. Memories of when he used to go on exciting adventures with Arthur and the knights of Camelot. This must feel a lot like coming home for him.

“I guess this is all a bit nostalgic for you, huh.”

Excalibur deflated slightly at that, coming back to rest beside him again. Flynn patted his friend comfortingly.

“Sorry, Cal. I really wish we had more time to explore while we’re here. You know I’d be happy to visit some of the places that were special to you back then, but we can’t. You’re a little too recognizable and history says you weren’t around during this time. Anything we do could disrupt things.”

Having lived his whole life prior to becoming the Librarian either in school or at home with his mother, Flynn didn’t have any way of relating to the sort of homesickness Excalibur was probably experiencing. He did understand grief, though, and he wished there was a way to help ease what his friend must be feeling right now. Especially being in this place that was so reminiscent of people Cal had lost long ago.

“I promise we’ll get moving soon,” he said, pulling his bag closer to dig through it again. He quickly found the book he was seeking and propped it open on his lap. “And tracking down a dangerous monster should be right up your alley.”

Flynn flipped through the book until he landed on a page with a large charcoal sketch of a dragon-like beast. “Hmm,” he murmured as he examined the picture. “This is what I thought of last night when Niall and his family were explaining about this píast dorchae — which I’m pretty sure just means ‘dark beast’ but I’m a little rusty in some areas of Old Irish.

“Anyway, what they were describing sounded similar to the various water monsters of Celtic mythology. It kind of reminds me of the beithir of Scottish folklore, but with a few major differences to the myth. Well, that and the fact that this creature isn’t a giant snake. I wonder if Áinfean might have inspired some of those later legends, though? Or some of the other stories of lake-dwelling creatures in this region.”

Beside him, Excalibur suddenly jumped up. Flynn looked up from his book to see what had alerted the sword.

“Sorry for the delay,” Cass called out as he approached their spot. “Are you ready to explore the bogs?”

Flynn quickly stowed away his research materials, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “Well, Cal is definitely ready,” he joked, hopping down from the boulder. “He’s excited to tangle with your local monster again.”

“Can’t say I share the feeling, but I’m glad to see someone around here who isn’t scared out of their mind by this creature.”

With Cass leading the way, they headed south through a low area of wetlands. Large clusters of trees separated the wide open spaces and created a handy way for them to track their progress. Their path across the bog was a bit scattered as they worked at avoiding sink holes and any deeper pools of water.

The ground underfoot was spongy and so dark it was almost black. The distinct odor hanging in the air made it easy to identify the soil as peat. By the time they made it to the first of the low hills, mud and water had coated up to their knees.

“Can’t imagine why Áinfean loves this place so much,” Flynn commented. “Between the wet and the smell, I don’t think all the cattle in the world could make me want to live in this swamp.”

Cass laughed. “You get used to it. I grew up in this area; these bogs are like a second home to me.”

They climbed the hill, coming into a dense patch of forest. The ground was still wet underfoot, but at least it was more solid than it had been out on the mire, so it was a welcome relief.

Cass suddenly came to a stop, raising his hand for silence. “I hear something ahead,” he whispered softly.

Creeping as quietly as possible through the underbrush, Flynn and Cass moved forward cautiously, keeping an eye out for any sign of their quarry.

The trees gave way rather suddenly to a large clearing. Large boulders on the edge of the space gave them a hiding place as they ducked out of sight. From their vantage point, they could see a large pond, several smaller pools, and a thick layer of moss across the ground.

And, pacing agitatedly back and forth in front of the pond, was Áinfean.

The beast somehow looked even bigger in the daylight. The body had to be at least eight feet in length, with the tail about the same. Its belly was low slung, like a crocodile. The long, snakelike neck ended in a wedge shaped head with massive eyes and fangs hanging out of the mouth. The black scales gave off an unnatural aura of darkness that seemed to seep into the very air around the creature. Terrifyingly long claws complimented each paw.

“It’s a drake,” Flynn murmured in awe.

“A what?” Cass asked.

Flynn dug around his head for the Old Irish word for dragon, but came up empty. “They’re more common in Europe,” he explained instead. “Some of them can breathe fire, but drakes aren’t usually this aggressive as a whole. I mean, compared to chimeras, they’re practically overgrown puppies.”

“You’ve lost me.”

Leaning a little farther out of his hiding spot, Flynn tried to get a better look at the creature’s eyes. No such luck. Áinfean was turned too far in the opposite direction.

Two facts kept nagging at him.

First, as he’d pointed out to Cass, drakes weren’t naturally aggressive creatures. At least, not to the extent this one had gained a reputation for being. While not as intelligent or advanced as dragons, they were still not mindless killing machines. So why was this one happily murdering livestock it had no intention of eating?

The second point was the one that provided Flynn with his only solid theory as to the truth behind this. And that was Excalibur. Or, more specifically, the way Áinfean had reacted to Excalibur the night before. It wasn’t much of a lead, but it was something. Enough to give him a working hypothesis.

“I need to get closer,” he said at last.

“Closer?” Cass repeated in disbelief. “Are you insane? That monster will rip your throat out before you get within two paces of it.”

“Well, then I’ll just have to keep outside of two paces from it,” Flynn said.

He scanned the clearing again, looking for any additional cover that could help him get closer without being sighted. His gaze stopped when it ran across the pond again. Or, more specifically, the way the beast kept pacing in front of it, glaring down into the water as it stalked past.

His mind immediately flashed back to the book of Celtic dragons he’d been reading earlier — and his observations on how similar Áinfean was to the beither myth.

Turning back to the others, he said, “I have an idea. Cass, wait here until I signal that it’s okay to come out.”

“What are you thinking of doing, exactly?” Cass asked in obvious concern.

Flynn turned to Excalibur. “Cal, I need you to stay here in hiding. Don’t come out, no matter what happens. I have a plan.”

Ignoring the sword’s whine of protest, Flynn leapt from his hiding place and ran directly to the edge of the pond. Spinning around, he faced the beast, waving his hands to get its attention.

“Hey! C’mon, come get me!”

Áinfean turned on him instantly, eyes narrowing as it sighted its prey. It charged him with a speed that was shocking for such a large creature. Flynn waited until the last possible moment, when the drake made a sudden lunge straight towards him, before jumping backwards into the water. He’d barely made it waist deep before the massive paws landed on his shoulders and pushed him even farther into the pond.

Knocked off balance, Flynn heard Excalibur’s panicked cry a moment before he was plunged under the icy surface.

The pond was much deeper than he’d expected. He was fully submerged before he even had a chance to take a proper breath. With the massive beast weighing him down, he was quickly sinking towards the bottom.

Flynn kicked out blindly, desperately trying to dislodge himself from his attacker. The beast’s claws dug into his arms and he barely managed to keep his mouth closed against the scream that fought to escape. His lungs were burning and he didn’t know how much longer he’d be able to resist the natural urge to breathe.

Finally managing to push Áinfean’s enormous paws off of him, Flynn kicked hard, swimming free of the larger mass. Vision starting to black out from lack of oxygen, he pushed his way to the surface in a mad dash for air.

Breaking the surface, the first thing he did was gasp in a large breath of the clear, cold springtime air. It burned almost as bad as holding his breath had, but it was welcome nonetheless.

Something much larger broke the surface a moment later, the creature flailing wildly as it splashed its way into view.

Wading closer to shore until the water was only waist deep, Flynn turned to observe Áinfean as it continued to splash around in confusion. It shook its head, sneezing some of the water out of its airway. It quieted after a few tense moments. Almost as if it was just waking up, the creature blinked slowly and looked around at its surroundings.

The large green, cat-like eyes narrowed on Flynn a moment later.

“Easy there,” he said softly, holding his hands to either side to show he didn’t have any weapons. “I’m not here to hurt you.”

It stared at him for another long moment before apparently deciding he wasn’t a threat. Grunting, the drake latched onto the reed-filled ground in the shallows and began dragging itself ashore.

Deciding he’d also like to vacate the frigid water, Flynn turned and began wading his way to the edge of the pond. He’d barely stepped foot on shore before Excalibur was all over him, pushing worriedly against him and letting out happy little whimpers that warmed his heart.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Flynn assured his friend. “I’m fine.” Raising his voice, he called over to Cass’s hiding place, “You can come out now.”

The young man hesitantly peeked out from the rocks, eyeing Áinfean carefully.

“Don’t worry, it won’t hurt you,” Flynn promised. “Completely harmless now. Well, mostly harmless, anyway.”

Cass cautiously stepped out from the rocks, keeping a wide gap between himself and the beast as he circled around to Flynn’s position. “What did you do to it?”

“Technically, I didn’t do anything,” Flynn said, shaking some of the water out of his hair. “Someone had the poor animal under a control spell, and I used the water to dispel its effect.”

“A what?”

“A control spell. I noticed that strange darkness emitting from Áinfean’s scales last night. That effect is a classic sign of the use of sympathetic magic. I didn’t realize exactly what type of spell was being employed, though, until I thought about Áinfean’s reaction to Excalibur. Cal’s magic is based around truth and honor, so a deceptive spell — like mind control — would not mix well with it. So I had a feeling the type of magic we were dealing with was probably some form of mind control spell. Someone was orchestrating all the attacks by Áinfean. That’s why it wasn’t eating the cattle — it wasn’t hunting for food at all, it was being driven to kill by someone else.”

“Do you mean… someone was doing this to us the whole time?” Cass asked, hands clenching into fists. “The whole community has been terrorized by these killings for weeks. My uncle has been struggling to keep everything together. And it was all intentional?”

“Yes, that’s… basically what I just said.” Flynn walked back over to the rocks to retrieve his bag, quickly checking to make sure none of his books had fallen out. Slinging it over his shoulder, he added, “I also had a feeling the spell was limited in how long it would have control over Áinfean, since it only attacks around sundown and then happily hides the rest of the time. To be honest, I thought we’d find the creature already completely docile, but I guess the culprit prepared for our finding it.”

“You mean, they knew we would try to track it down?”

“That would be the assumption. In hindsight, I should have realized that would happen, but it all worked out anyway.”

Cass shook his head. “That part still confuses me. What exactly did you do to get rid of the spell?”

“The water,” Flynn said, gesturing at the pond triumphantly. “It counteracted the spell and broke its hold on Áinfean’s mind.”

“Should I even ask how you knew it would do that?”

“Oh, well…” Flynn shrugged a bit sheepishly, hand rubbing the back of his neck. “That was admittedly more of a lucky guess. Niall said the beast lives in the wetlands and loves water, but it only attacked the farmlands and villages — places that are significantly drier than its home territory here around Dún-attach. It hid in the bogs during the day, when the spell was presumably no longer affecting it.”

He pointed at the pond as he continued, “Then, when we first got here, I saw the way Áinfean was avoiding the water despite clearly being a water-dwelling creature. So, why would an animal that lives in water only hunt in dry areas and avoid sources of water? Answer: the magic controlling it is cancelled out by water.”

Cass stared at him for several long moments. “That’s a very big guess to stake your life on.”

Excalibur grunted his agreement.

“Well, I also remembered a similar myth I’d been researching earlier. One of the legends connected to the beither is that water can heal its bite. I’d theorized before that Áinfean might be related to those creatures, so I wondered if maybe water has a general healing effect on their species.”

Excalibur hovered closer to whack him on the arm.

“Ow! Okay, I admit it was a shaky plan. But I only had about thirty seconds to come up with it. And, in my defense, it worked.”

Cass shook his head, letting out a relieved laugh. “Well, it was definitely a gamble, but I’m glad you weren’t killed testing it out. Unfortunately, whoever was controlling the beast before can simply do it again. We need to actually figure out who is behind this.”

Flynn carefully averted his gaze, digging through his bag to check for an item he remembered stowing in there before. The avoidance did not go unnoticed.

Sudden realization hit Cass and he frowned in concern. “You already know who is responsible for this, don’t you?”

“I have a theory, yes,” Flynn admitted with a sigh. Finding what he was hunting for, he pulled out a tiny glass bottle from the bag. “But, first things first. I think Áinfean here deserves a chance to go back to wherever it came from. I’d suggest keeping your distance for a few minutes.”

The others hung back as he took a few careful strides toward the giant beast. Áinfean narrowed its eyes, but didn’t move to lash out at him. Flynn made sure not to make any sudden moves, understanding why the poor animal might be a little distrustful right now.

Without the effect of the magic on it, the drake looked much less terrifying. Its dark scales took on an iridescent quality, the black now accented with deep blues and purples. Even the large cat-like eyes were more open and friendly.

“Sorry, this is probably very confusing for you,” Flynn said softly, keeping his hands in view as he continued forward. “But I might be able to help you out.” He held up the small glass bottle. “I know from experience this stuff doesn’t smell great, but it is definitely worth it.”

He uncapped the bottle and shook out a little of the powder inside, tossing it into the air at Áinfean. It settled in a thin layer over the creature’s scales for several seconds before disappearing.

Áinfean sneezed and looked unhappy with what had happened, but thankfully didn’t retaliate. It apparently didn’t see the action as an attempted attack.

“What is that stuff?” Cass asked curiously.

Flynn put the cap back on the bottle and stowed it away in his bag. Turning back to his companions, he explained, “It protects against mind control spells. Judson made me start carrying it around everywhere. According to him, this type of situation is way more common than you’d think.”

“So, what’s our next move?”

“This is where things get tricky. We need to find proof of the culprit.”

“You said you had a theory on the person causing this trouble,” Cass pointed out. “Who do you think did it?”

Leaning back against the rock they'd been using as cover, Flynn said, “Okay, let’s go over the facts. First, the person had to be present when we made our plans to come out here. That already narrows it down a lot. Second, they had to have a motive for wanting to scare the locals. Áinfean didn’t kill people except for those hunting parties; it was intended to scare more than destroy. Third, despite its local title and usual place of residence, the so-called ‘Beast of Dún-attach’ never actually bothered your family.”

Cass cocked his head to the side, brow furrowing in concern. “You think someone in our family is responsible.”

“Cass, who is in charge of looking after the family heirlooms? That collection of artifacts and treasures in the great hall, who is responsible for them?”

“My cousin Ruarc.”

“I already spotted one magical artifact in that collection earlier. I’m willing to bet there’s also something in there that can be used to channel sympathetic magic.”

The young man’s jaw dropped. “But… that doesn’t make any sense. Ruarc is my uncle’s right hand man. He’s the tanist. Why would he try to hurt the community?”

“He’s the one who takes over if your uncle is deemed unfit to rule. And the locals haven’t been too happy with how this situation with the beast was being handled. Niall said it might even hurt your chances of storing enough food for the winter. That’s a pretty big reason to want new leadership.”

He waited to let the news settle in for a moment. A myriad of emotions flitted across Cass’s face in quick succession, before landing on anger.

“We need to go confront him right now. Brion needs to know about this.”

“I agree on the second part of that,” Flynn said. “But lets hold on off on that first part until we have some actual evidence. I’ve learned the hard way that tipping off the bad guy doesn’t usually work out too well.”

Pushing off the rock, Flynn peeled off his soaked jacket and slung it over his shoulder instead. Sadly, he couldn’t do much for his other clothes that were also dripping wet. Maybe he should start packing a change of clothes in his bag from now on. Especially considering how often he ended up wet, dirty, or otherwise in need of a new outfit.

“Come on,” he said to the others. “We need to examine that collection of artifacts. I’m betting I can identify the one Ruarc was using if I see it.”

“And then?” Cass asked.

“And then we confront the bad guy.”

~~~~~~~~~~

The walk back to the road was much faster, now that they knew which spots to avoid in the bog. Before long, they were coming into sight of the crannog.

“Okay,” Flynn said, “I’ll check out the artifacts in the great hall. Cal, you’re with me. Cass, you need to track down your uncle and explain to him exactly what’s going on. Meet me in the hall when you’re done.”

Thankfully, with it not being a meal time and no meetings happening at the moment, the great hall was completely empty when he snuck in. Flynn winced at the squelching noises his wet shoes made across the floor. Stealth was a skill he was still working on developing.

Excalibur moved around the room on one side while Flynn took the opposite wall. They quickly scanned over the artifacts, looking for anything that might have been used for mind control. They reached the dais at the front of the room without finding anything promising.

“That leaves the most valuable treasures, I guess,” Flynn said, stepping up onto the low platform.

He checked over the first few items and didn’t see anything that looked even remotely magical. He was still a few away from finishing when his eye caught on the familiar artifact from the Library.

Excalibur moved to block his hand as he reached for it.

“Hey, easy. I’m not planning to activate it yet. I just want to get a better look.”

At his friend’s annoyed grunt, Flynn rolled his eyes. “I’m not letting myself get distracted. But I at least want to figure out if it’s even the same artifact.”

He took out his glasses, grateful that they’d managed to survive his scuffle with Áinfean earlier. He’d already bought more replacement glasses in his one year at the Library than he had in his entire life previously.

Slipping them onto his nose, he reached out again and gently lifted the artifact from its resting place.

“Hmm, this is interesting,” he murmured to himself, reading over the inscription. The intricate pattern of words and imagery had obviously been engraved with great care. Unfortunately, it still didn’t make any more sense than it had the last time he’d read it. “It’s almost like part of it is missing. But the entire inscription is intact; there’s nothing broken or removed.”

He closed his eyes and tried to recall images of the inscription he’d been trying to translate immediately before they’d been transported out of the Library. His memory was usually almost perfect, and yet he was sure the words had been different before. Every bit as jumbled and nonsensical, but a different set of symbols and phrases than what he was holding right now.

His eyes flew open as the realization hit him.

“I’ve got it!” he exclaimed triumphantly. Excalibur made a vaguely shushing noise that went unheeded. “It’s not the same artifact at all. This one and the one in the Library are a matching set. The inscription was divided up and carved into both of them — words and sentences alternating between the two halves.”

He took his glasses off as he looked over at his friend excitedly. “That’s why I couldn’t figure out the translation before. It seemed like gibberish because I only had part of the inscription to work with.”

“I thought I heard someone talking in here,” a deep voice suddenly cut through the empty hall.

Flynn and Excalibur froze, neither of them having heard the man enter.

“I see you made it back from your little expedition intact,” Ruarc continued, striding menacingly toward their side of the room. “Should we assume your trip was a waste of effort then?”

Flynn returned the artifact to its alcove and turned to face the traitor. “Well, we tried,” he said with an innocent shrug. “I guess Áinfean really knows how to hide out there in the bogs.”

The calculating grin on Ruarc’s face made it clear the game was up. “Really? That’s interesting, considering your arms are all scratched up.”

Oh. Oops. He’d completely forgotten when he took off his jacket earlier that he still had the marks from Áinfean’s claws all over his arms.

“You’re also completely soaked.”

“I tripped into some thorn bushes. And it is called a wetland for a reason.”

Ruarc chuckled humorlessly. He drew his sword, making Excalibur growl out a low warning.

“I think you can drop the act now, Flynn. If you were hoping to find the device I was using on Áinfean, you were wasting your time in here. Do you really think I’d let the object I was intending to win my kingship with lay around in here where anyone could steal it?”

“I mean, that was the hope…”

Ruarc smiled and tapped the medallion around his neck with his free hand. “It never left my side, and no one had any clue as to its true purpose. To be honest, it still baffles me how no one suspected a thing for weeks, and then you show up out of nowhere and put the whole thing together in a single day. I don’t know who you are, but I have to say I’m impressed at how quickly you figured out my scheme.”

“All except for the question of why,” Flynn said. “You’re already next in line to be king. How impatient do you have to be to fabricate attacks by a mythical being as the first step in a coup?”

“This is a quiet, peaceful community in the middle of nowhere,” Ruarc sneered. “We haven’t had a war or major illness in this region for generations. If I’d waited for my cousin to die of natural causes, I would have been too old myself to take the throne. The people wouldn’t stand for a king who is already at death’s door.”

“So, your solution was to betray your own family and try to depose your cousin from his rightful place as leader?” Flynn pointed out.

“The way I had things planned out, it would have been an entirely bloodless coup. No one had to get hurt. Now, unfortunately… well, I can’t afford to have anyone find out the truth about this.” He shook his head and raised the tip of his sword threateningly. “I suppose I am lucky you showed up when you did, though. This way, when I inform the public that this strange foreigner has killed their king — and that I was forced to kill you in defense of my home and family — I will be welcomed as the new leader.”

In the blink of an eye, Ruarc had raised his sword and swung it down directly at Flynn. He didn’t have time to react beyond an instinctive flinch.

But the killing blow never landed. A bright flash of steel was followed a moment later by the clang of metal against metal. Flynn blinked and his brain raced to process what had just happened.

Excalibur, now poised protectively over him, had caught the other blade on its way down. The moment of relief from not dying passed quickly before Ruarc was angrily pulling his blade back for another strike. Flynn quickly grabbed Excalibur’s hilt to fight back.

Living in a peaceful community apparently hadn’t stopped Ruarc from practicing his sword fighting. He was good. He was staying pretty much on top of them and keeping his attacks coming fast enough that Flynn and Excalibur were forced to stay on the defensive side of things.

Another strike came at them and Flynn barely had time to block it. He deflected his opponent’s blade, taking a swipe at Ruarc’s chest to force him back a few steps and give them a little more space to move. Ruarc tried to move in again, but Flynn blocked each blow and added a few attacks of his own to keep him at a distance.

Fighting against Excalibur during their weekly training sessions had taught Flynn a lot about sword fighting. But actually being able to fight with Excalibur against an opponent was another feeling altogether. It was incredible. He was lighter and faster than any man-made sword. They’d been friends for long enough and practiced together so many times that anticipating each other was easy. They moved as one, Excalibur adding a speed and precision to Flynn’s carefully planned strikes that made them a deadly combination.

They fought their way to the opposite end of the dais, with Flynn and Excalibur managing to keep the upper hand, but only barely. Ruarc lunged suddenly, aiming a forward jab straight at Flynn's ribs. He ducked sideways, hopping off the platform to add a bit more space for recovery. Their opponent followed close behind. He used a series of carefully timed strikes to force the Librarian back towards the center of the room.

Flynn pivoted to the left without warning. As Ruarc tried to turn with him, he swung a wide arc that forced his opponent to retreat or risk leaving himself wide open. They weaved around several of the tables and chairs, a few feints attempted, but no serious strikes as they both sized each other up for an opening.

Ruarc suddenly ducked around a chair, using the high back to temporarily block any attacks. When he emerged on the other side, he moved in quickly with a flurry of attacks that seemed almost random.

One slash to the right turned out to be a feint. Flynn didn’t recover fast enough to stop the actual blow to the left. A sharp burn sliced across his upper arm. He hissed in pain and took a step back.

He could already feel blood trickling down his arm, but didn’t have time to stop and assess the seriousness of it. At least it felt like the blade had only grazed the outside of his arm. It would have been far worse if he hadn’t deflected Ruarc’s attack when he did. Obviously, his opponent hadn’t been making an idle threat when he’d talked about killing him.

Ruarc pressed the momentary advantage, charging forward with a dangerous downward chop. Flynn angled his own blade to catch it on the way down and push it aside. The force of the blow reverberated down his arm. Ruarc didn’t have much of a height advantage over Flynn, but he was still using it to full benefit.

Flynn stepped backwards around a low wooden bench. He kicked it across the floor towards Ruarc, making the man jump to avoid it. Seizing the brief distraction, he swung in close. It was parried. Flynn caught the counterstrike, circling his opponent’s blade with his own, forcing it down and away. The opening was just enough to let him press forward.

The two swords clanged loudly as Ruarc tried to disengage in time to block Flynn’s attack. He made it, but only barely. With the two men practically on top of each other now, Ruarc shot his free hand out to punch Flynn hard in his injured arm.

Gasping from the shock of the blow, Flynn stumbled back a few steps.

Ruarc circled slowly around the table in the center of the room, smiling in a calculating way that set Flynn’s nerves on edge. “I’ve never fought an opponent I couldn’t beat quickly. You present a refreshing challenge, Flynn.”

Circling on the opposite side of the table, Flynn kept his grip on Excalibur’s hilt ready, braced for whatever move Ruarc chose to make next. “Thanks. I had a pretty good teacher, though. And I guess having a sword for a best friend is a bit of an advantage.”

“All the same, it will be a pity to have to kill you.”

“I know this reference won’t mean anything to you, but I have to say I wasn’t expecting you to sound exactly like a villain out of an Errol Flynn movie.”

Ruarc’s free hand moved in the blink of an eye, a flash of metal accompanying a sharp whistle as something flew through the air straight at them.

Sidestepping in the knick of time, Flynn dodged the small dagger. It struck the wall exactly where he’d been standing.

“Okay, well, that’s just cheating,” he muttered. Excalibur gave a grunt of agreement.

Ruarc moved barely a moment later, leaping up onto the table and charging across at them. His sword slashed through the air ahead of him, almost clipping Flynn before he blocked it. Instead of retreating, though, Flynn ducked down and moved forward, meeting Ruarc as his feet reached the edge of the table.

Flynn drove his sword upward, twisting deftly around his opponent’s blade and flinging it harmlessly across the room. With Ruarc knocked off balance, he quite easily maneuvered his shoulder around to catch him in the knees and send him tumbling to the floor.

Spinning to face his fallen enemy, Flynn brought Excalibur around, the tip of the blade resting warningly in front of Ruarc’s neck.

The man froze, raising his hands in surrender. “Stop! I give up.”

Flynn breathed out a sigh of relief. “Awesome.” It would have been great if the man had simply done that ten minutes ago, but he'd take it.

The adrenaline rush was quickly fading now, exhaustion crashing down on him all at once. More importantly, his injured arm was killing him. A wave of dizziness forced him to plant his feet a little more firmly to remain upright.

Excalibur must have sensed his loss of balance, because he immediately whined in concern.

“I’m fine, buddy. But could you take over here for a minute?”

He let go of Excalibur’s hilt and took a step back to lean against the table. The sword moved to place his blade threateningly across Ruarc’s throat, letting out a low growl of warning.

Flynn laughed. “I’d stay down if I were you,” he warned the traitor. “You’ve really pissed off Cal. Which, speaking from experience, is never a good idea.”

The door burst open, Cass rushing in with Brion and Muirín right behind him. Flynn was glad to see a few guards accompanying them as well.

He nodded at Ruarc, who was still on the ground with Excalibur practically daring him to make a move. “We were right, Cass. He confessed to the whole thing. And that medallion around his neck is how he’s been controlling Áinfean.”

Brion motioned for the guards to grab Ruarc. There was obvious hurt lurking in his eyes as he glared at his cousin. “You would betray your own family for a title? And I thought I knew you.”

“You don’t know me at all,” Ruarc spat back at him.

“Take him to the storeroom for now,” Brion ordered the guards. “Keep him under close guard. We’ll call a community meeting in the morning to deal with him.”

Flynn didn’t even realize he was starting to zone out until suddenly Cass was directly in front of him.

“Are you alright? Your arm doesn’t look good.”

“What? Oh, yeah, I’m fine,” he brushed off the concern. He was pretty sure the lack of sleep last night and very eventful day were simply catching up to him. That, or the blood loss, but he’d prefer to believe the former. “If it’s all the same to you, though, I think Excalibur and I should probably be getting back to where we belong.”

Cass looked genuinely disappointed by that. “You won’t stay for a little while?”

“You have to stay,” Muirín insisted. “The people will want to celebrate being freed from the beast’s terror. You should be there to enjoy the reward for your work.”

“Honestly, all I want right now is sleep,” Flynn said tiredly. “And I think I’ll do that better back home.”

“Avalon must be quite a journey away,” Cass said. “And you’re injured. Isn’t there something we can do to help?”

Flynn smiled. “Funny you should say that. This is going to sound a little crazy, but one of your family heirlooms can actually help me and Cal get back to where we belong. Do you mind if borrow it for a minute?”

Cass glanced at his uncle, who immediately nodded his approval.

“I don’t understand how an antique can possibly be of use,” Brion said, “but you’re more than welcome to it.”

“Thanks.”

Flynn winced as he pushed away from the table, his arm stinging in protest to the movement. Grabbing his jacket, he wrapped it tightly around the wound and tied it off. The jacket would never be wearable again after today, but maybe he could get away with marking it off as a work expense.

“You ready to go, Cal?”

The sword only hesitated a moment before joining Flynn as he climbed back onto the dais. Flynn felt guilty for taking him away from this place, but knew that the longer they stayed, the more they risked messing up the timeline.

Slipping his glasses back on, he picked up the artifact again. This time, he used his memories of the matching one in the Library to fill in the missing pieces of the inscription. It made so much more sense now.

“It’s a spell,” he told Excalibur. “I don’t understand all of the words used here — it’s in a very old dialect — but I should be able to transport us back to the location of the other artifact by reading out this part of the spell.”

Glancing up at the others in the room, he said, “Okay, this part is going to be kind of hard to explain. Just chalk it up to magic, I guess. But, bascially, we're going to use this to transport ourselves back home.”

“Any chance you’ll come back and visit us?” Cass asked hopefully.

“Sorry. I really wish we could, but it isn’t possible.”

“In that case,” Brion said a bit sadly, “I’m glad we had a chance to meet you, Flynn. Thank you for everything you’ve done for us.”

“Don’t mention it.” After a second to think about that, he reiterated, “Actually, seriously, I would appreciate it if you guys never mention it. That might help keep the temporal damage to a minimum.”

They exchanged confused glances, but Flynn was too busy reading through the spell one last time to make sure he had it right. “Okay,” he said, grabbing Excalibur with his other hand. “Let’s go home, buddy.”

~~~~~~~~~~

A blinding flash of light followed by a hollow ringing in his ears reminded Flynn a little too much of how this little adventure had first started.

When his vision cleared, relief flooded through him at the sight of the familiar rows of bookcases.

“We made it!” he exclaimed, raising his fists in victory. “I was only like sixty-five percent sure that would even work.”

“Good to see you both made it back in one piece,” Judson said, stepping into his field of vision. The man's expression grew concerned as he spotted the bloody jacket around Flynn’s arm. “Or, mostly in one piece.”

Flynn grinned at him. “Oh, you have no idea how good it is to see you.” He glanced to the left and saw Charlene also standing nearby, watching with a look of concern to match Judson’s.

Excalibur let out a sharp yip of greeting to Judson, which was returned with a polite nod.

“Have you guys been waiting here the whole time?” Flynn asked. “How long were we gone?”

Judson glanced at his watch. “About ten minutes.”

“Ten minutes,” Flynn repeated in shock. “It was over a day on our end.”

“When returning from time traveling, it is usually best to choose a reentry point on the timeline that is as close to your exit point as possible. I’d say ten minutes was pretty good for your first try.”

“Uh, thanks,” Flynn said, deciding not to mention that it had been pure luck. He did mentally file that information away, in case it was ever needed again. “Hey, how did you know we had time traveled?”

“Well, you disappeared in a flash of light, and then reappeared ten minutes later with obvious signs of having been gone longer than those minutes would allow. Time travel is the only obvious explanation.”

“That, and he translated enough of the artifact after you left to guess at its purpose,” Charlene added dryly.

Not deterred by their lack of enthusiasm over the whole affair, Flynn said, “You’ll never believe where we ended up. Medieval Ireland! There were ringforts and crannogs and everything. And we fought a drake! Or, almost fought. Whatever.”

“Flynn,” Judson gently interrupted. “Maybe we should go over the whole story after you’ve had a chance to properly bandage that arm.”

Excalibur seemed to agree with that, not-so-subtly nudging Flynn towards the nearest chair. He obliged by sitting down, only realizing how light headed he was after getting off his feet for the first time in too many hours.

“I’m fine,” he tried to insist, only to get three disbelieving scoffs in return. “Shouldn’t we be more worried about the fact that we time traveled to the middle ages? How do you even check for temporal damage?”

“It’s fine,” Judson assured him. “If you had made any changes too big for the space-time continuum to handle, we’d already have felt the effects of it.”

He relaxed at that, his biggest concern from the past day finally eased.

“Are you sure you’re both okay?” Judson asked again, gently grabbing Flynn’s left arm. “You- you’re bleeding.”

Flynn grinned. “My first real sword fight,” he announced proudly. “A sword fight in a castle with an actual medieval villain — with the evil monologue and everything. We won, by the way.”

“Yes, well, I should hope so,” Judson said offhandedly, still inspecting the wound. “You know, I seem to remember you arguing that fencing lessons are never going to have a practical use in your job. This is, what, the third time now you’ve needed those skills?”

“Is this your way of saying ‘I told you so’?”

Apparently satisfied that Flynn was in no danger of bleeding to death, Judson finally released him. “No, this is my way say of saying that I think we need to increase your lessons to twice a week.”

“What?!”

“Well, given the fact that you managed to be injured despite using the greatest sword in history, I think it’s safe to say more practice is in order.”

“Hey, I did an amazing job, considering it was my first time. Back me up here, Cal.”

Excalibur huffed in amusement and made no move to help him out.

“Traitor.”

Shaking her head at their antics, Charlene took the artifact from Flynn’s hands. “I’ll have this transferred down to the time machine room for safekeeping.” She called back over her shoulder as she walked away, “Don’t go home before having that arm looked at. You’re going to get blood on the floors.” Which, by now, Flynn understood was her own way of expressing concern.

“Wait, we have a time machine room?” he questioned, shooting Judson a curious glance.

“There will be time to go over all of that later,” Judson promised. “For now, let’s get your wound taken care of so you can get some sleep.”

And that was something he could wholeheartedly agree with.

---

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