She went straight home, hoping Cathbad would still be there in the she-shed, but he wasn't. And, unsurprisingly, neither was Cearnach. Emery wasn't quite sure what to do. On the one hand, they wouldn't have expected her to return until the afternoon, so perhaps they'd just gone out. Then again, where would they have gone? Even if they disguised their clothing, Cearnach was a particularly imposing figure, and no doubt someone would spot him and link him to all the videos of last night's chaos that had to be floating around the internet. Cathbad would've been an absolute fool to take the warrior out in public, and though the druid was a little eccentric, Emery was pretty sure he was no idiot.

Glancing at the palm Cathbad had brought back to life, the girl was again impressed for a brief moment. He really was a pretty decent wizard. But she couldn't sit in the shed and wait for him to return.

No one would be in the house. Deirdre was at school, and both of their parents worked. So Emery headed up the deck to the back, where she was somewhat disconcerted to find the door not only unlocked but slightly ajar. Her hand paused mid-grab at the knob, Emery wondered for a fleeting moment whether someone had broken in, but her worry wasn't strong enough to keep her from pushing the door inward and stepping into the kitchen. Everything inside appeared in order, but the television two rooms away was definitely on. Someone was there. Slowly, Emery moved past the table and counters and appliances, softly stepped into the hallway, and inched toward the living room, wondering what excuse she could offer if she ran into her mother or father. But when she peeked through the door frame, she saw instead of a parent the enormous figure of Conall Cearnach reclining on her father's leather chair, his bare feet crossed at the ankles, an array of snacks laid across his chest as he grazed on them.

The minute he saw her, Cearnach scrambled to his feet, dumping food everywhere and sending the chair tipping onto its side, where it crashed into an end table and knocked a lamp to the floor, shattering its bulb.

"Lady Emer!" Cearnach cried, his voice deeper even than Cullen's, so deep it was like a growl. "My apologies for . . ." but his words fizzled when he saw the way she looked at the mess he'd just made.

Sighing, Emery crossed her arms. "You're supposed to be in the she-shed."

"Aye," he confirmed rather sheepishly.

The girl noticed his long, thick hair was sopping, and his tunic and leggings were damp. Where he'd put the rest of his clothing and weaponry, she could only guess. "Why are you all wet?"

"Yes, well, I found the waterfall below and bathed myself."

"Uh-huh." She knew she'd have to go look at the state of the basement bathroom and dreaded it. "Can you get rid of all this food? Just--just put it in the trash. The bin, in the kitchen. And try to put the room back together." She picked up the remote from the coffee table and switched off the television.

Like a big dumb dog, she thought, heading toward the stairs to the lower level. She found the shower door wide open, water all over the tiles, the showerhead shoved up so high that the plaster around it had cracked and was spraying a thin line of liquid, and towels all over the place. The worst of it, though, was the mat of coarse yellow hair that had gathered around the drain. Trying not to retch, Emery picked it up and dropped it in a plastic bag, which she then tied off and decided to throw directly in the trash can outside. She cleaned the rest of the bathroom as best she could, but there was nothing to be done about the showerhead; perhaps Cathbad could work some magic on it when he returned.

Leaving the basement bathroom, Emery caught sight of Cearnach's other attire and gear scattered across the floor. Shaking her head, she joined him upstairs and was pleasantly surprised to find that he'd cleaned up the food and replaced the chair rather well. The lamp was another story. "Go on, then," she told him. "Go downstairs and get the rest of your stuff, and then just wait there for me. I'll be down in a few minutes."

She took out the trash, vacuumed, and replaced the bulb in the lamp, and then, as promised, joined Cearnach, whom she found put back together and sitting in a papasan chair as quietly and morosely as a scolded child. He looked like a turkey in a hummingbird nest.

Emery sat on a futon across from him and studied him for a moment. For as large and aggressive as she knew he could be, at the moment he resembled a big friendly bear. "You don't fit here very well."

Cearnach's rugged, bearded face frowned. The girl was fascinated by his black and blue eyes. They were utterly striking and even a little terrifying. "I am a big man," he said apologetically and quite unnecessarily. But then he stood, got down on one knee, and bowed his head. "I ask for your clemency, Lady. The druid has remembered me of my post. If Cuchulain found out I'd abandoned you--"

"He won't," she interrupted. "At least, not from me. Now please, get up. You're making this weird." Somewhat befuddled, Cearnach listened to her, and when he'd sat back down, Emery continued. "You saved me from those things when I was in the woods. I didn't get to thank you for that."

The warrior inclined his head. "No need to--"

"Hold on." Emery mentally prepared herself for what she was about to ask. "I--I want you to tell me what you know about me and--and Cullen." She held her breath, tried to look Cearnach in his bi-colored eyes.

"Lady," he returned after hesitating for a moment. "It is the one thing the druid has asked me not to speak of. I--I dare not go against his command. He's been patient enough after what I've done."

Emery had assumed as much, and even though she was itching for more information, she didn't want to cross Cathbad, either. He'd been patient with her, as well. "I understand," she said. "But you really were a spectacular bowler. I can see why you got a little caught up."

"What a game, Lady!" Cearnach became animated, seemed to shape a bowling ball out of the air with his large hands. "Such a weight, and to throw at the wee pins so far away! Where I'm from, we make a ball of a man's brains, soak it in limeand dry it in the sun, and after a while it's an excellent weapon. But if I could bring back a bowling ball--" He paused, perhaps thought he'd grown a little too eager.

With an expression of mingled surprise and amusement, Emery decided to ignore his comment about brains and admitted, "I've always been terrible at bowling. If we ever have some sort of normal time, you can teach me some of your tricks."

The man looked pleased but also a little awkward.

"I'd like that, Lady."

"So what's the plan, then? What has Cathbad told you to do with me?"

Cearnach opened his giant hands palm-up as if he expected the answer to be in them. "Protect you."

"From Dark, Death, and Evil?"

"Aye."

"Cullen defeated Dark."

"Only for a time."

"But Cat said he'd not be back for a while."

"It's likely true."

"So, what about the others? What will they do?"

Cearnach mulled over that question, then turned to the right and spit something into a corner. When he saw Emery's horrified expression, he said ashamedly, "Chicken bone . . ."

"Pick it up!"

He bent over and reached for the bone, which he then squirreled somewhere inside his cloak. Wishing to detract from his churlish manners, he kept talking. "Don't know much about the brothers. They're mostly legend. We're told of them as boys, sons of a great witch, drudges of whomever holds their leash, but I've never known them to attack until they found you. I think it like enough to assume they do as they're called. Dark brought dark, didn't he?"

"So Death brings death." Emery had feared as much. She didn't want anyone or anything to die. She trembled a little as she asked, "Does that mean people will just start dying?"

"Either that or they'll start undying. I'd figure Death could go either way."

Undying . . . That didn't sound too bad. "Bringing people back to life--that could be a good thing!"

Cearnach gave Emery a wide-eyed vacant expression. "You ever see the undead, Lady? I'd be hard put to find them good."

Of course. His words sank in. "You mean like zombies?"

Sitting back, Cearnach stretched his arms high above his head. "I know not of zoo-bees. But I'd wager my life on Death showing up at your nearest burial grounds. Then it's only a matter of time before the undead are at your door, Lady. And we must hope that the druid has returned with the others, by then, for I'm not sure what I can do against Death's army. I am only one man. Though I've killed many a Connachtman, I've yet to kill a man already dead."

"You have to chop their heads off. That's the only way."

Cearnach gaped at her like a fish out of water. "You've battled the undead?"

"No, no. I've just seen them in the movies, and that's what you have to do, go for their heads." The girl realized Cearnach wouldn't understand what she meant. "Nevermind. When do you think Death will strike?"

"Hard to say, though if he knows now it's me alone here, I'm sure he's got himself set on soon."

Emery certainly didn't want zombies showing up at her house, not only for the obvious reason of wanting to ensure her own safety but also because the farther the zombies walked, the more people they'd hurt. Her family would be in danger as would all her friends and neighbors. "What do they want with me, anyway?"

Cearnach puffed air out of his cheeks. "The druid hasn't said as much; I'm sure he doesn't know, but I'd wager they want you dead."

She rubbed the back of her neck, frustrated. "Well, I appreciate that you got right to the point. But I don't understand why I'm worth all this trouble."

"I know only that I am sworn to protect you until my Lord can do it himself."

"All right." Emery sighed, pondered, and began to think aloud, "If you can't defeat Death's army on your own, we have to be smarter than him. The more time we give him, the more zomb--undead he can assemble. Cathbad said the brothers could only move in the dark, so Dark made darkness to get to us during the day. He also said they--all of you--came in through the woods, so that's probably where they have to stay. If Death can't travel to me because of all the lights, then he'd probably make the undead to bring me to him or to kill me . . . right? Because I'm not going to go willingly to the woods, and he's not going to come close to my house." A thought occurred to her, and she gasped. "There's a cemetery right by the woods, past the middle school and closer to the edge of town, before the freeway cuts through. It's a huge cemetery, has people from all the neighboring counties. If the woods are near to it, and it's unlit at night, Death would have easy access." Emery's eyes sparkled with the excitement of what she figured was pretty solid reasoning. "He'll be making his army there!"

Cearnach had leaned forward again, Emery's enthusiasm being contagious, and he was nodding his head vigorously.

"When's the best time to kill the undead?"

The warrior caught on. Grinning, he said, "When the bairns are being born."

"We'll go there tonight, then," Emery dictated.

Cearnach pumped a fist into the air, but then he caught himself. "Lady Emer, Cuchulain would have my throat cut were I to put you in such danger! I cannot assent to your accompanying me."

"And what would he say about you leaving me here, all by myself?"

The warrior was dumbstruck, and for a moment, Emery pitied him. She knew neither option was a good one for him, and she also felt a little bad for pulling out the Cullen card; she didn't care one way or another what he thought, but she knew Cearnach did, and she was willing to bet he wouldn't leave her alone if he thought Cullen wouldn't like it.

"I'll be very careful," Emery said. "And . . . and I'll bring friends. People who can help keep me safe. You can even give me a weapon if you have extras. Please--I need to come with you. Don't leave me here."

Grumbling, Cearnach eyed the wall at the far end of the basement. "Lady, let me think on it."

"Fair enough," Emery replied. "But you can't think on it here. You have to go out to the shed. I don't know when my parents will be back, and I can't have you surprising them. You have to keep a low profile after last night. Come on, then." Emery stood and waved a hand to indicate he should follow her.

Standing, Cearnach allowed himself to be led out of the basement and up into the house, then out onto the deck and down into the yard. His sword in its scabbard clanked as he walked, and he had to duck through every door frame, but he was soon enough settled back into the shed, on the sofa. Emery brought him magazines, an old handheld gaming device, several bags of potato chips, a liter of Coke, and some leftovers, not knowing how exactly he'd want to occupy himself.

"Now you must stay here," she insisted. "I'll be in the house, but I'll keep an eye on you. If for some reason you need me, open the shed door; if I look out my window and see it open, I'll come down right away. Got it?"

"I hear and obey."

"Great. I'll come back later tonight, and we'll go to the cemetery. That is, if you've thought enough on it and decided I can go."

He nodded.

"And I'll find a way to get us there; it's a long walk, and we don't have Cat." Unsure what else to say, Emery turned to go.

"Lady--"

She glanced back at Cearnach.

"If I may be permitted to say . . ." His blue and black eyes looked everywhere but at her and then suddenly met her own gaze. "You are not what I expected."

Emery's lower lip slowly dropped, opening her mouth just enough to show her surprise. "What did you expect?"

The warrior shook his blond hair, smiled a toothy smile. His cheeks were like two apples. "Well, a Lady--proper and the like."

Unsure whether she should be flattered or not, Emery shrugged and went on her way.

Once in the house, she closed and locked the door. As much as she trusted and, in spite of herself, liked Cearnach, she couldn't risk him coming back inside and terrorizing her house. It was going to be enough to try to explain the showerhead. Maybe she wouldn't explain it at all. She'd just leave it for someone else to come across. Whatever she did, Emery knew she had to try to look normal. No doubt the school was going to call her house after all her teachers marked her absent. She still had time to preempt that. It was easy enough to call the attendance office and pretend to be her mother, say her daughter had been ill and come home.

After that, Emery messaged Tess: Nine tonight, pick me up two houses down. She thought about her text after sending it and followed it with another: I'm sorry I've been quiet. I need your help. I promise I'll explain. Wear black.