“I pushed myself forward and rose cautiously to my feet. A draft from the aft signaled that my dressing gown was open, but I didn't care. The nurses could take shots with their camera phones and upload them to their Flickr stream for all I cared, just so long as my face wasn't in it.A wave of dizziness rolled over me when I took a step, but it was one of those gentle rocking swells and not a thirty-foot-tall fist of Poseidon. I could do this. I shuffled over carefully and leaned against the nightstand for support as I opened the drawer. Then I nearly fell over when Granuaile spoke from behind me."Nom nom nom!" she said.I looked around for the cookies she must be referring to and then realized, belatedly, that the room was bereft of delicious baked goods. The only thing on display was my backside, and apparently she thought it looked tasty.”

“I gladly shucked off my wet, muddy jeans and put on the new pair. I noticed she hadn't bought me any underwear; Granuaile either didn't think of it or she did think of it and decided that I should go commando.I tore open the package of undershirts and gingerly pulled a black one over my head before tucking it into my jeans. Though I was now dressed in similar fashion to Coyote, I figured he could keep the cowboy hat and I'd rock the tattoos. Granuaile gave me a good once-over and her gaze felt less than innocent, but all she said was, "Much better.”

“It's all Irish politics."Hal looked at me sharply and shook a finger in my face. "That's bloody dangerous, getting involved in that. You be careful."I gaped at Hal. "I can't believe you just said that to me.""What?" Hal protested, shrugging his shoulders and looking aggrieved."I called to ask Gunnar for help with the Bacchants yesterday and he shut me down. No well-wishing, no pleas to be careful, nothing. So now we're dealing with the aftermath of what happens when I try to go it alone, , and you tell me to be careful about Irish politics?""Well, I know precisely where Gunnar's coming from. It's not our job to keep the magical peace.""Neither is it mine."”

“Did you get me that movie about Genghis Khan?'It's in the Netflix queue, but that's not the surprise. You don't need to worry, it'll be something good. I just don't want you to feel depressed about going home.'Oh, I won't. But it would be cool to have a stream like this in the backyard. Can you make one?'Ummm... no.'I figured. Can't blame a hound for trying.Oberon was indeed surprised when we got back home to Tempe. Hal had made the arrangements for me and Oberon perked up as soon as we were dropped off by the shuttle from the car rental company.'Hey, smells like someone's in my territory,' he said.'Nobody could be here without my permission, you know that.''Flidais did it.''That isn't Flidais you smell, believe me.'I opened the front door, and Oberon immediately ran to the kitchen window that gazed upon the backyard. He barked joyously when he saw what was waiting for him there.'French poodles! All black and curly with poofy little tails!''And every one of them in heat.''Oh, WOW! Thanks Atticus! I can't wait to sniff their asses!'He bounded over to the door and pawed at it because the doggie door was closed to prevent the poodles from entering.'You earned it, buddy. Hold on, get down off the door so I can open it for you, and be careful, don't hurt any of them.'I opened the door, expecting him to bolt through it and dive into his own personal canine harem, but instead he took one step and stopped, looking up at me with a mournful expression, his ears drooping and a tiny whine escaping his snout.'Only five?”

“I had an ASU student looking for it in my shop last week, and he defined the Bacchants for me as 'those drunk chicks who killed that one dude because he wouldn't have sex with them.' His professors must be so proud. I asked him if he knew what maenads were, and instead of correctly answering that it was just another name for Bacchants, he bizarrely thought I was referring to my own testicles - as in, "'Ere now, mate, don't swing that bat around me nads.'" The conversation deteriorated quickly after that.”

“Oh. Oberon looked at me. I know that has to make you sad. But call to me instead, Atticus. I'll always answer. Your fly has been open all this time, by the way, and Granuaile hasn't said a thing.Thanks, buddy, I said silently as I tried to surreptitiously zip up my jeans.See? I got your back AND your front. I deserve a treat.”

“I still didn’t know quite what the witches were capable of. The threshold could be booby-trapped or enchanted. I could be walking into a cage fight with a demon. Hell, she could open the door with a Glock 9 in her hand and put a bullet in my ear, or throw a cat at me, or call me a damn hippie.”