Cat rolled her eyes. ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake. Answer his question.’

The little man looked annoyed and took a long, spiteful swallow of his drink before answering.

‘She’s been swept. Same as the boy.’

‘Swept?’ asked Cat.

‘Yes, swept. Taken. Gone. Whatever you want to call it, it doesn’t matter. The Queen of the Sídhe has the children now and what’s left behind is no more human than I am. They’re changelings. Or in the girl’s case, a stock.

‘What does that mean?’ said Shane with fury. His brow was furrowed and Cat knew he was struggling to keep his cool. She couldn’t really blame him.

‘It’s another kind of changeling,’ explained Cat. ‘It’s a creature carved out of rock or a lump of wood or whatever. It’s made to look exactly like the human child it’s replacing. Is that right?’

The Clurichaun nodded. ‘The boy’s different – he’s a true changeling, made from one of the older fairy folk, I believe.’

‘Who’s he?’ asked Cat, seizing on the lead. ‘Do you know exactly who took Mikey and Jenny?’

The Clurichaun winced as though he had been burned. ‘Shouldn’t have opened my big trap,’ he muttered then, louder, said, ‘Never you mind. All that matters is the children are gone.’

‘I don’t believe you,’ said Shane.

‘You do,’ said the Clurichaun. ‘Why would you be here otherwise?’

Shane opened his mouth to retort, but quickly closed it again.

‘Where have the fairies taken them?’ asked Cat.

For a moment the Clurichaun looked as if he didn’t want to answer, but Cat knew he was bound by their bargain.

‘They’ll have taken them to the Green Rath, I expect,’ he said with reluctance.

‘The what?’

‘The old fort that sits atop a hill in Cullane Wood, just outside of town,’ he clarified.

Of course, they’ve been taken to the ringfort, Cat thought. The one from Granny’s story.

‘But that’s only a pile of rocks! There’s nothing there,’ said Shane.

‘Oh, there’s something there all right, and I’ll tell you this for nothing – if you go there tonight it’ll be a sight to behold,’ said the Clurichaun. ‘Tell me, do you know what night it is?’

Shane blinked. ‘It’s Halloween,’ he said.

‘A smart lad! One who can read a calendar. What I mean is do you know what happens on Halloween night?’

‘The fairies meet,’ said Cat, remembering her Granny’s words. ‘And they throw a party.’

The Clurichaun emitted a loud belch and took another deep swig of his drink. ‘The Revels are no mere party, girl. The Trooping Fairies are a hard bunch to pin down. They prefer the freedom of the road and the feel of wild country beneath their heels to standing still. But once a year they gather in some sacred place and celebrate Samhain.’

‘The time when the walls between worlds grow thin,’ Cat said.

The Clurichaun smiled. ‘Just so. And no fairy gathering is truly complete without a mortal or two to add to the fun.’