I suddenly “For those who unwisely leave Emhain Abhlach, the return to this world is a shock, brought about by the realization that hundreds of years have passed, while to the hero it seemed only a few days or years.”

The boy, whom I know to be named Balbhuaidh, asked for help on behalf of him, his sister and his grandfather, Abhlach.

“The Fir Bolg have lately made their home in Lochranza, the northernmost port on the island. They are a simple folk, with little respect and understanding of the Sídhe who have for ages called this island Home.

Unfortunately, the Sídhe-Ríon, or Fairy Queen, is not wary of her plight and continues to shapeshift into various forms that leave her vulnerable to the crude ignorance of the Fir Bolg. Her favourite form is that of the yellow frog. Return her to Emhain Abhlach, a plain of apple which lies three miles south of here, and there she will be safe in the domain of my grandfather."

I nodded when I saw that he was waiting for my answer. “I’m willing. Since I have came this far, and I have seen the fruit of my effort, it just seems right to face another adventure. When I return—if i return at all and, if it pleases you—I would like to see your sister as well. How you have grown!”

The boy smiled and nodded. “Of course. I am sure she will be delighted to see you.”

"How do I get to Lochranza to fetch this Frog Queen?" I ask.

The young boy frowns upon hearing the Sídhe-Ríon so addressed.

“I mean Fairy Queen,” I said hastily. “That turns into a frog when...oh, I’m Greek. I don’t know how this thing works!”

Being Greek is a useful excuse. He seemed to ponder my excuse for a moment, before finally pointing north, to the mountains.

"There. Follow the River Iorsa to Caisteal Abhail. It is here that the Gruagach makes his home. A word of warning: The Gruagach is of the Fomor race of old, the ancient invaders of Eire with whom the Tuatha De Danaan met much grief.

"The Gruagach lets none pass between the North and South. He sits atop Ceum na Caillich - The Witches' Step - at Caisteal Abhail, scanning the bens, slopes, and glens - aye, the coasts, too! - for bold wayfarers. Scores of men's bones are strewn about - all that the Hairy One leaves of them. I am too quick and uncanny for the wily beast and I know how to woo the golden eagles into letting me ride them." Balbhuaidh looks you up and down and laughs. "I doubt you could do the same, long-shanks!"

“Hey, watch it!” I protested indignantly. “This long-shanks Greek passed through giant cats with skeletal interior decorating—armed with just a dagger and an annoying harpist—just to save you, you know! Don’t you forget that so quickly!”

He laughes as he circled me once, twice, thrice. And then he speaks again. "Legend tells of the Mantle of Feth Fiada, that I have heard my grandfather say belongs to Manannan mac Lir. The wearer of this mantle goes about unseen to mortal eyes. But that Gruagach is a clever one! Even hidden under the Mantle of Feth Fiada, you would still need to be cautious. The Gruagach will be able to hear your movements and smell the stink of the outlander upon you.”

“Outlander indeed,” I complained under my breath.

He doesn’t seem to heard what I said. If he did, he pretended not to. “I will be overhead, always, on golden-eagleback. Whatever I can do to distract the disagreeable creature, I will do. If you make it past him, Glen Iorsa will take you north to Lochranza. There, search the loch reeds for a brilliant, yellow frog. I assure you, the Sídhe Ríon will be easy enough to find.”

Strange lands, strange deities, strange myths and again, strange rules. It turns out that disclosing the Mantle’s whereabouts is a punishable crime so Balbhuidh cannot tell me directly. But as it is with most rules, there are always loopholes (and who better to know than a Greek, though Romans are way superior than us in this department). He could not tell me directly the whereabouts, but he could hint to me.

Good! My mind has always been a better use to me than any weapon.

"I can tell you in the riddle-tongue of the Sídhe! Listen closely, and you may understand me...”

As I returned to my boat, I turned back and look at him.

“Every effort I have put into this adventure is worth it when I see whom it is that I saved.” I smiled, and added a dash of Greek wink. “Back in a jiffy!”

He looked confused. Seems like he’s not familiar with the expression.

“It’s Greek,” I grinned, once again wielding the ever useful Greek excuse in a foreign land.

With this new intelligence, I returned to my boat.

"I will be here upon your return," Balbhuaidh calls as the boat carries me away from Eilean Arainn.

Though I have an idea where to go, I didn’t know the peril of the sea journey I am about to face. The moment I was at the middle of the sea, the heaven rumbles and lightning begans to strike.

“Good Zeus,” I muttered. “This shouldn’t happen before an important journey! I beg you show me some mercy!”

Didn’t work! Now which maiden is he busying himself with? Can’t he see this maiden here needs help?

Nevertheless, there was no turning back. Lightning or no, I will have to pull through. A sudden gust of wind pushed the boat forward faster. I don’t know whether to curse the heavens or give thanks instead. Now which God should I appeal to? Poseidon?

If the God of Greek does not work their miracles on Celtic land (I expect it will create a stiffling feud of power between deities. It’s enough to have the mortals waging war against each other), should I appeal to Manannan instead? I understand that he is their God of the Sea. Supposedly, he has some control over the weather. It is from him that one should get the gift of invisibility.

Is it possible that I have offended him in any way? Surely he could not penalize me for appealing to my own Gods!

However, I have nothing to lose trying. When in Rome, do as the Roman do. When in Celtic sea, with your life on a Pheonican needle...appeal to the Celtic gods! If Zeus decides to strike me with that lightning of his for appealing to a foreign god...well! Amidst the pouring rain, I called out to Manannan.

“Mighty Manannan, son of Lir! God of the Sea! Forgive me, for I know not the way I should appease you. (I left out the “I am Greek” part, because 1) it has gotten too old an excuse, even to my ear. 2) I don’t think a foreign deity would care if I was an Olympian myself).

I come to you not for my own sake, but for others. Those you call your own. I come to you to ask for the Mantle of Feth Fiada and to be given permission of safe passage! Pray guide me, and let me finish my mission in helping them!”

As I said those words, my boat suddenly lurched forward. The boat rocked so violently, I held on to dear life. Maybe I should have sang instead! Probably that's how the Celts appease their gods, which is why the bards are such good singers!

Then as soon as it began, it stopped.

Gradually, the sea settled down and the rain stopped. As I struggle to regain my bearing and swallow my gore, the skies slowly clears. I realized that I am right where I intend myself to be, this is suppose to be the place where Manannan’s palace stands though of course I could not see it with my mortal’s eyes.

I looked up thankfully, my intention to greet the emerging sun when I noticed a big bird (a bird???) was falling off the sky (falling off the sky? Mighty Zeus!)

No wait...

That’s no bird! It’s a cape!

The Mantle of Feth Fiada!

Thanking my luck and praising the Gods (Greek and otherwise), I grasp the cape from the air. As I made my way back to Port Iorsa where Balbuidh awaits me, I made a mental note to give sacrifice to both Zeus and Poseidon (I have no way of telling if they had any part in it, but better be safe!) and to ask the locals how is it one give thank their Gods.