Chapter 5

“Good morning.”

Oisin jumped and spun around. Bel had come into the room without a sound, and stood now, pale skin contrasting with his dark robes, his head nearly touching the ceiling, looking down at Oisin. Oisin stared for a long moment, taking in the being who had saved him. The god was, as Firas’ tales had said, much like a man. But his great height, his strange, pale eyes, his silver hair, and other, smaller things Oisin noticed now, seeing him clearly for the first time, such as the way his ears came to pointed tips—all marked him as unlike any man Oisin had ever known.

“Or such a morning as can be had here.”

Oisin blinked in confusion. “Sir?”

“It is always night here. The sun never rises, for the sky in this place answers to my will. Your people, long, long ago, called me Belinos, the bright one, and thought I was their god of the sun, for I first came to them at Beltane. The sun and I are not friends, though. My power is greatest by night.”