Fresh night air blew low clouds in between the two red towers supporting the Golden Gate Bridge. Soon the wall fog would envelope the entirety of San Francisco and bleed further out towards Oakland and Berkeley. I cherished the rare view of the city lights reflecting off of the Bay water before they disappeared into the haze.

A booming voice brought us to the here-n-now.

“So what brings you to my neck of the woods again, Rob?” asked Iarfhlaith.

The walking and talking tank we spoke to was a Fir Bolg, a member of the ancient giant race that used to be natives of Ireland. Despite the grey pock-marked skin, hands the size of basketballs, a mohawk that bled into a mullet, and a voice that could rattle car frames, Iarfhlaith was a big Berkeley softy. His passion was kite flying, for crying out loud.

“We’re tracking a dog. No, a werewolf. Well he’s a German shepherd wolf-dog thing. Is Tain a purebred, Sean?”

I rolled my eyes. “Even though we call him a German shepherd, Tain’s technically a mutt. Either way, seen any German shepherds lately?”

Iarfhlaith looked up from the small kite he was building. He put a thick finger on his lip and squinted one eye closed, thinking deeply. “I’ve seen five today. All of them were on leashes, as it should be. One was with a man by himself, another with a family with five kids. Can you believe it? Five kids and a dog. Yesterday I only saw three German-Shepherds, unless you count the mutt. The other day—”

“Sorry but we don’t have all night,” I said. “Specifically a German shepherd that turns into a werewolf. Have you seen one of those?”

“When would I have seen it?”

“Tonight. We’re tracking it. Up until a few days ago he was just my dog, Tain, but then he got hit by a magical blast and turned into a werewolf. He cropped up earlier tonight running across the Al Zampa Bridge. And he moved this way, following a vampire.”

Iarfhlaith’s fingers moved with meticulous precision. I don’t know how he managed to be so delicate with the small sticks that formed the diamond shaped kite considering his digits were as thick as water bottles.

“Well if he’s following vampires, they reside in Oakland, not Berkeley.”

“Just what I was afraid of,” said Nehemiah. “He’s probably tracking the vampires all the way back to the Dearg Due’s lair.”

“Werewolves and vampires are natural enemies. If there was a werewolf out this way there’s almost no chance he would not be heading towards Oakland.”

“Tain knows no fear,” I said. “He adamantly hates vampires, and he can handle them like something fierce. He took on four the other night.”

“They all must’ve been young bats”

“Two of them had their wings,” said Charice.

“And one was a Dracula rank vampire,” added Nehemiah. “Skin is pale as paper.”

“Wow. That’s impressive. Must be a strong werewolf. Probably a knight of Conri the wolf king.”

Rob shook his head. “I don’t think so. He’d have to be a man to be a knight of Conri wouldn’t he? This werewolf is a dog.”

“That’s odd. I’ve never heard of a dog turning into a werewolf. Only men. And all the werewolves I’ve ever known were Faoladh, servants of King Conri.”

“So you haven’t heard of any crazy strong Faoladhs going on a vampire killing spree this week?” asked Charice.

“Nope,” he shook his head, his mullet swinging to either side of his neck. “Sorry, can't be of more help to you guys.”

A thought hit me. “Different question. Know anything about Diarmuid?”

“Oh yeah. Donn, the Red’s dead son. That little brat. He was so lanky and spindly, even I could have snapped him like a toothpick.”

Nehemiah spun the chamber of his revolver. “Did you know he’s undead now? Donn raised him.”

“I had heard that, but did not believe it.”

The wizard shoved his revolver back in the holster. “After raising a massive beast like Balor from the dead, a skinny twig like his Diarmuid would be easy right?”

“Balor is back too? How long have I been away from Tir na nOg? Oh well, I’m glad I’m not there with all these rotting corpses walking around. Might drive me insane.”

“You wouldn’t know the whereabouts of Aengus Og?”

“Aengus Og I do know of. He stays here in Berkeley.”

“Any idea where we could find him on a night like tonight?” asked Charice.

“Yeah. He’s either in Half Price books, or sometimes he plays the acoustic guitar on the corner of University and Shattuck. And if he’s not in any of those places he’d probably be at Zachary’s Pizza. He loves that joint. Why would you need to talk to the Celtic god of love?”

“Donn sent Diarmuid to live with him,” I said. “Apparently he figured he would use his newly risen son to strengthen the bonds of friendship.”

A disgusted look crossed Iarfhlaith’s face. “Politics. Another reason why I never venture into Tir na nOg. So much side switching. And in the middle of it all, the Morrigan stayed neutral as ever. Maintaining the balance of Chaos and Order. Just watch out if you fall on the wrong side of the balance. Am I right?”

I wanted to ask Iarfhlaith more about the Morrigan as that definitely caught my attention, but we didn’t have time. “Well thanks Iarfhlaith, and it was nice seeing you again. I appreciate that you didn’t end up killing me or my friends this time. We could’ve done without Rob though.”

At the mention of our last encounter Iarfhlaith broke into a booming fit of laughter causing the ground beneath our feet to vibrate. He wiped the tears from his eyes. “My, Rob, your new master is almost as funny as you are. I like you guys. It was nice seeing you again.”

I smiled and flipped my jacket collar up. It was fixing to be a cool night.

“Oh. You reminded me, Master O’Farrell. Give it here.” The Fir Bolg motioned for my jacket. I took it off and handed it to him.

“You seem to carry a lot of items all of the time. As a Fir Bolg and crafter of bags of holding, I cannot in good conscience let you go a second time without modifying your jacket into a jacket of holding. Especially since you are the first good master my friend Mr. Swellfellow has had in a long time.”

I patted my pockets. “Um. This is awkward, but I don’t have any money to give you right now.”

“Nonsense. I’ll do it as a gift. It won’t be done for a week or so mind you. Besides this jacket is torn and shredded anyways. You could use a new one.”

“Well, if you insist.”

Iarfhlaith nodded, then looked down at the Bay from the crest of the grassy hill we stood atop. He licked a finger and tested the wind. “Beautiful night, no? Now if you don’t mind I’m gonna go back to flying my kite. The night isn’t as young, but the wind is picking up. I really want to try out my new baby.”

We left the Fir Bolg to fly his new kite in peace. As I walked through the grass down the hill back to my ‘Stang, I couldn’t help but think about what he said. The Morrigan was trying to maintain the balance between Chaos and Order. What did that mean? I was also really disappointed that he didn’t know where Tain was but at least we had a lead on Aengus Og.

“So where to next,” asked Nehemiah.

“I’m starving,” said Charice.

“Sounds like we’re getting pizza,” I said.