The Fifth Beast (ManxMan Chinese/Celtic Fantasy Story)

Chapter 22

Elatha Mac Lir returned to his seat in the niche, turned away from Niall and stared out the window.

"Why do you think I can do it?" he asked after a pause.

Niall crawled on his knees closer and hid his face in the folds of Elatha's sky-blue cotta, which flowed to the floor like water, and was just as shiny.

"I know how much you dislike to be called the Lord of Illusion. But I spent a year in your castle, in your bed, at your feet, just like now. Do you think I didn't notice that it's in your power to make the whole world see what you want?"

With bated breath, he waited for an answer. Elatha said nothing, but his hand touched Niall's cheek and began to play with his hair. It was reassuring. It was practically consent.

"My magic has limits," Elatha finally said, and Niall rejoiced. "I can make everyone see your braid in its place. But whoever wants to touch it, unbraid it, will find an empty place." He ran his palm along Niall's neck as an illustration.

"It's the simplest thing of all. We'll attach a fake one, and you will cover the junction with an illusion." Niall raised his head and met Elatha's mocking eyes. He blushed slightly. The look said, Oh, you have already thought of everything, without even waiting for my consent! "I need something more difficult. I need you to turn me into a mortal."

Elatha laughed loudly, melodiously. It was expected, but still a bit annoying. Niall liked Elatha's laugh, as beautiful as silver bells ringing, but only if Elatha wasn't laughing at him.

"My dear Steward of the North, it is impossible. You can't hide your height with any illusion. The mortals aren't simply tall enough."

"Some are," Niall said confidently. "Anyway, you could shrink my height just a little bit. Let's say for a palm's breadth. Is it possible?"

"I'll try. And do you want me to make you ugly like a peasant, or what? With thick arms and big feet? Phew, Niall, your taste had never been refined, but this is over the top."

"But your taste is impeccable, my lord Elatha, and only you can give me the appearance of a beautiful mortal, which resembles me, but cannot be confused with me."

"An interesting request." Elatha took Niall by the chin and turned his face towards the light, looking at him no longer as a lover, but as a painter or a sculptor. "I think I can do it. But I have a condition, Niall Mac Nechtan."

Niall had no doubts about it. He even had a vague idea what kind of condition it would be, and was not that far off.

"You will recount truthfully and in full detail everything that has happened to you. And everything you're going to do with your new appearance."

"As you wish." Niall bowed ceremoniously. "Just order the wine to be served, it's hard to tell such a story while sober. And one more thing, Elatha... Maybe we can move to a more comfortable place?" His tone became pleading. "For example, into the bedroom? You marble floors are too cold, I am freezing my ass off."

He had every reason to believe that even before he was halfway through the story, he and Elatha would end up in bed. It seemed that Niall too hastily promised not to look at men for a long time. Not when the jet-black hair and violet eyes reminded Niall of one particular man. And no, not Roigh, although Elatha, apparently, wanted to remind Niall exactly of him.

Niall recounted to Elatha everything that had happened to him, truthfully and in full detail. Well, at least Elatha Mac Lir was under such impression. The beautiful Lord of Water was too accustomed to flattery to be able to recognize insincerity, and Niall was well-trained in lies and pretense by him personally.