“Very well,” Rosheen said tightly. “Get the lamp, while I take his trousers down.”

Padric did not reply to that, just stared at her blank and horrified.

“We’ll just singe his bollocks. Should be enough to…”

“Inna wake!” the clurichaun declared suddenly, still upside down.

“…bring him right ‘round,” Rosheen finished victoriously.

Padric looked disturbed

“I don’wan n’more soup!” the clurichaun said, his eyes blinking hard.

“Wake up and pay attention!” Rosheen stepped up.

“You leaf tha’ broom a’there, Jileen!” the clurichaun complained thickly. “I had’no but tha’three pints and thas’all!” His face was swelling up, turning a strange shade of red and pale purple.

“Let him down,” Rosheen told Padric, who looked greatly relieved as he eased the little fellow to the dirt floor. The clurichaun lay on his back, breathing heavily and muttering incoherently to the ceiling.

“Not like to get much out of him,” Padric said.

Rosheen shook her head. “If the ale here is as good as that dwarf of yours claimed, this sodden wretch is the reason. I’ve no doubt he made a deal with the brewer-- his enchantments for a place to sleep and a share of the stock. He’s been living here awhile now and knows what happened. Clurichaun are not always drunk, but they are enough of the time as makes little difference. He knows.”

Padric nodded once and bent down, propping the clurichaun up against the barrels.

Rosheen approached and stood over him. “Can you tell us where everyone went?”

The bloodshot eyes rolled lazily around, missed her and pulled focus on Padric. The clurichaun squinted up hard and slack jawed. “Lurvely voice for one s’large…an’ bearded.”

“I want to know what happened here, you crusty toadstool!” Rosheen leaned in and said loudly in his ear.

A grin split the clurichaun’s lips, revealing perfect white teeth. Fae-folk. Even our drunks are comely. “Pretty pishkie, give us’a kiss.” He puckered wetly at her.

“I’ll plant something on those lips if you do not begin talking sense.” She pulled her fist back again.

“Fishhh fffoood wuzza dead man, heelz kissin’ the sky!” the clurichaun sang tunelessly. “Fly, fly, mortals run, fear’n ev’ry eye! The ‘ollow man has gon’away, left his masser drowned! The metal man has come’ta play, red death for’all around!” The clurichaun broke off his slurred song and slumped into a gurgling chuckle.

“He’s mad,” Padric said.

Rosheen was not so sure. She knelt down, slow and careful, reached out and placed a cool hand on the clurichaun’s brow. His head rolled towards her unsteadily and he looked her in the eyes. Sad. His eyes are sad. “Please,” she whispered gently. “Tell me.”

He stared at her and smiled. “Knew you’d take my trousssers down.”