He clapped his hands together sharply. The wavering reflection faded out and Shea saw nothing but blackness, as if he were looking into a tunnel in the side of the hill.
«Approach, approach,» said Ollgaeth, «If is not like that the Sidhe will be dangerous against a druid as powerful as myself.»
Shea went nearer. Sure enough, he was looking down a tunnel that stretched some distance into blackness, with a faint light beyond. He put out a hand; it went into the hole where solid rock had been without resistance, except for a slight tingly feeling.
Shea asked, «How long will it stay open?»
«Long enough for whatever passes to reach the other side.»
«Do you suppose I could open it, too?»
«Are you not a qualified magician, now? To be sure you could, if you will learn the spell. But you will give me something in exchange.»
«Certainly,» said Shea. He thought; there was the one he had used in Faerie. «How about a spell to change water into wine? I can teach it to you first thing in the morning.» If he did it himself, the result would probably be rum of an uncommonly potent brew, but qualitative control was this guy’s own business.
Ollgaeth’s eyes almost glittered in the moonlight. «That would be a thing to see, now. Raise your arms.»
He followed Ollgaeth through the spell a couple of times, then repeated it alone. The wavelike shimmering disappeared, and the tunnel came open.