Cormac and I stayed vigilant as we traversed the field that led back to the farmhouse, ensuring we regularly checked behind us in case we were being followed by the sidhe. However, despite our fears, there were no signs of the shadowy creature as we approached our lodgings, and by the time we arrived at our destination it seemed that our mysterious adversary had relinquished its objective for the night.

Inside, the brackish aroma of Mrs Doyle's seafood coddle rekindled our appetites. As we sat down to eat, we explained our extraordinary evening to her, detailing everything from the recreation of the arson attack using the golden artifact to the bizarre encounter with the mythical creature.

"Now that we think that the sidhe is trying to get hold of the pendant, it's not fair for me to remain on your property," I declared to our host as we finished our meal. "I'm just putting you both in danger. I think I should find somewhere else to stay."

Mrs Doyle sighed and put her hand on top of mine, compassion filling her hazel eyes.

"I've seen the magic you wield, Aiden. You could use it for your own gain, but I've witnessed you only usin' it with good intentions. So, whatever this is about, I'm sure we can all handle it together. Besides, didn't you say that you'd discovered that the sidhe have a weakness?"

I nodded, grateful for Mrs Doyle's kindness and for the fact that I still had a place to sleep for now.

"Yes, they seem to have an aversion to light," I confirmed. "But to what extent, I don't know. Have either of you ever seen them in the daytime?"

Cormac pursed his lips as he considered the question.

"I don't think so, no," he mused. "The only times I've seen them have been around dusk or just after nightfall."

"I'm sure it was very early in the mornin' when Eithne fell from the crag," Mrs Doyle chimed in. "Her and Seamus were out gatherin' blackberries and fraughan before the sun was up."

"So perhaps it's light above a certain intensity that impacts them?" I pondered. "My torch is pretty bright, and I held it really close to the sidhe on both of my encounters with them."

"Well, whatever it is that they don't like about that box of yours, at least it appears to ward them off," Cormac pointed out. "And given that it's your pendant they seem to want, it looks like at least you have a way of protecting it."

"It's not that simple," I realised, pulling out my phone and checking the remaining power.

One per cent.

Using the torch had drained most of the remaining battery, which meant that it wasn't going to make it through the night anymore.

"It's pretty much dead," I mumbled in frustration, silently acknowledging that this also meant we were about to lose the evidence that we'd planned to take to the police the following day.

"Dead?" Mrs Doyle asked.

"The battery is about to run out and I have no way of charging it," I muttered, only realising after I'd said it that it wouldn't make sense to either of my companions. I looked up at them as I tucked it back into my pocket. "The torch won't work after tonight, and I'm about to lose all of the moving pictures, too," I clarified in an attempt to rectify my imprudence.

"All right, so it sounds like you can't use your box to chase the sidhe away anymore," she responded. "But I have a glass kerosine lamp that you can take into the barn with you tonight. It will be safer than usin' candles in there."

"Thank you. Hopefully that will work, assuming that we're right and it was the light spooked them," I responded.

"I hope so too. But even if the light wards them off, we've only addressed one potential issue. From what you found out about Eamon tonight, it seems that the sidhe aren't the only threat out there," Mrs Doyle observed.

"Aiden, can you use your magic to protect us against anything Eamon might try?" asked Cormac, looking hopeful.

I shook my head.

"It doesn't work like that," I told him.

Cormac looked a little confused but nodded his acceptance anyway.

"Maybe you can't do anythin' if Eamon turns up looking for trouble," Mrs Doyle acknowledged pensively. "But Eamon doesn't know that. He's aware that you can do magic, and he's convinced you're a witch. Perhaps if we let him believe what he wants about your abilities he'll think twice about doin' anything untoward."

"Do you really think he'll try to hurt Cormac again, then?" I questioned. "I can't understand what his motive is."

Mrs Doyle hesitated, glancing at the slender man briefly before her focus returned to me.

"Rumour has it that Eamon's never been keen on his cousin bein' a Molly," she remarked.

I blinked in astonishment.

"Wait, what?" I gasped, trying to comprehend that she seemed to be suggesting. Turning to Cormac, I attempted to gain some clarification. "You and Eamon are cousins?"

"Aye, our mothers were sisters," he confirmed softly.

Pursing my lips, I let the information gradually sink in. It certainly explained why their mothers met up so often when the boys were children, and why the ladies were so keen for Eamon and Cormac to get along. It also accounted for their similar hair colour - presumably that reddish tinge ran in the family, with Eamon's shade evidently manifesting more on the lighter side.

"Cousins..." I repeated slowly. "But this animosity must have started before he knew about your preference for men?" I pointed out, recalling that Cormac has told me that there had been issues between them from a young age.

"Aye, it did," the other man confirmed. "It just got a lot worse when word got out about my ... abnormality. I think Eamon was partly concerned that people might think he might be this way too, because we're related."

"That's not a good reason to try to burn down your house!" I fumed.

"Apparently, it's a good enough reason for Eamon," Mrs Doyle offered with a raised brow as she started to tidy up from dinner.

I stood and helped to clear up the crockery.

"Not that we can prove it was him anymore," I grouched, irritated at the timing of the sidhe's attack. "I'm so sorry, Cormac, I didn't realise how close my phone was to dying. It looks like we won't be able to present anything to the police tomorrow after all."

"You worry too much," he replied. "I'm grateful you were able to show me the truth, even if there's nothing more we can do with it."

I softened at his words.

"Sometimes the truth hurts a lot though," I pointed out, still processing that Cormac and Eamon were kin, and wondering whether I perhaps could have handled things better when we first found out who was responsible for the fire.

"Aye, and the pain feels worse than the flames I was trapped in," he admitted. "But knowing the truth is better than living in ignorance. That's what Mr Quinn used to tell us."

"Mr Quinn sounds like a smart man," I noted, as Mrs Doyle fetched the glass lamp that she'd promised us from the opposite end of the room.

"That he is," she agreed. "The children were lucky he was able to step in and teach them." Handing Cormac the substitute torch, she added, "Right then, hopefully this will be bright enough to keep the sidhe away. Do you boys have everythin' you need?"

"Aye," Cormac nodded as he stood and crossed the kitchen towards the opposite door. "I've already taken a quill and some ink. I feel like writing tonight. I hope you don't mind?"

"Not at all," the older lady smiled. "Whatever helps."

As the delicate, pastel glow of the kerosine lamp swung gently by his side, I was painfully aware that its subtle, flickering flame was no match for the sharp radiance emitted by my electronic device.

Swallowing my anxiety, I followed Cormac's lead and headed out with him to the barn.

The deep, soft cry of an owl hooting across the darkness was an indication that it was readying itself for its nightly pursuit of prey.

As the rhythmic descant of the bird of prey continued to fill the benign night air, I couldn't help but wonder whether there would be more than one nocturnal hunter flying across the caliginous pastures tonight.

And whether it would be coming for me.