"Um...."

Justin's voice jolted Chris out of his thoughts, and he looked up to find the young man standing in front of him, his body vibrating with nervous tension. Chris opened his mouth to ask Justin what in the world had his panties in a wad, but closed it almost immediately when he caught sight of the book Justin was holding in his hands. He fought back the urge to smirk and instead just stared innocently up at his friend, curious as to exactly what he was going to say.

"Um," Justin said.

This time, Chris did smirk. "Never a good thing when you start a sentence that way. What's up?"

Justin shuffled his feet and opened and closed his mouth a few times before he finally blurted, "It says that leprechauns are evil!"

Chris raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening into a grin. "Does it, now?" He shook his head and took the book from Justin, shaking his head. "It's really not a good idea for you to read, Jup, we've told you this." He examined the book carefully, ignoring Justin's scowl. "Ancient Irish Legends, hmm?" He flipped it open and had to scowl himself when the pages immediately flipped to an obviously well-read chapter about leprechauns, the first page of which contained an illustration of an ugly, angry looking troll clutching a pot of gold coins. "Oh, for the love of Pete."

Justin had the good grace to look sheepish.

"Okay, Jup, siddown, I'm gonna explain a few things to you."

Justin sat obediently, eyes wide and curious. Chris fought back a chuckle at how young he looked, deciding that Justin probably wouldn't appreciate the humor. JC drifted in, too, looking just as sheepish and curious as Justin.

"You want me to call Lance and Joey, too?" Chris asked, not at all surprised at the guilty look that crossed Justin's face. "I mean, I bet they have questions, too."

"That might be a good idea," Justin said, then added in a quiet mumble, "Lance helped me find the book."

"Remind me to turn Lance into a toad, one of these days," Chris joked, rolling his eyes.

Justin's eyes went wide all over again. "You can do that?"

Chris finally gave in to his laughter.

~*~

"Okay, kiddies, let Poppa Chris explain a few things," Chris started, after Lance and Joey had switched onto their bus. JC giggled. "First of all, from now on, if you have any questions about leprechauns, just ask me, okay? You can't trust this stuff," he told them, waving the book around. "The Irish aren't exactly known for their tolerance, you know."

"What d'you mean?" Joey asked, looking a little shocked at what he had obviously taken as a racial slur.

"They're all basically devout Catholics over there," Chris explained patiently. "Remember all the hoo-hah about gays in the St. Paddy's Day parade?"

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh. And what's another thing that the Bible says is wrong, aside from homosexuality?"

Lance's eyes twinkled. "Well, let's see. Stealing, cheating, lying, killing, drunkenness, swindling, talking back to your parents...."

"Magic," Chris answered himself, cutting Lance off amid more of JC's giggles.

"Oh," Justin said.

"Oh," Chris nodded. "So, of course they say leprechauns are evil, we do magic all the time. And yeah, leprechauns probably caused some mischief way back when. We're a fun-loving people, on the whole. We like to play pranks."

"Oh!" said JC.

Chris grinned at him. "Yeah, it's in my blood, man. Can't do a thing about it. Anyway, leprechauns have pretty much stayed out of sight for centuries now. All of this stuff is so old, it's just been exaggerated over the years, for dramatic effect. Look at this guy!" He opened to the page with the leprechaun illustration and pointed angrily at it. "Do I look like that? No!" He answered before Justin could make any smart remarks. "Did the guy who tried to kill me look like that? No! I mean, come on."

"But what about the Alliance?" Justin wanted to know. "Aren't they evil? They're trying to kill you...."

Chris shrugged. "Nah, they're not evil. A little shady, a little... amoral, I guess, but not evil. Any other questions?" He waited expectantly. "No? Good. Carry on, then. Oh, and Lance, do not encourage Justin to read, okay? It just causes problems."

Justin smacked him, but Chris just laughed and shoved him away.

Lance shrugged. "He asked, I wasn't gonna..."

"Just say no, Lance," Chris interrupted, waving a hand in dismissal.

"The crown prince has spoken," JC sniffed loftily. Lance just snorted rudely at him.

~*~

"Good morning, Your Majesty."

Kieran, king of the leprechauns, smiled and nodded to his oldest and most trusted advisor. "Good morning, Adamhán. What do we have planned for today?"

"There was to be a meeting," Adamhán replied, "regarding the situation in the hills, but there is someone to see you, and I fear it may be of great importance."

"You fear?" Kieran frowned down at his old friend, recognizing the grim look in his eyes and almost dreading the news to come. "Very well, then, bring him forth."

Adamhán gestured to the page waiting at the door, and immediately a man in grey robes was ushered in, flanked on either side by guards. "Your Majesty, this is Lord Séamus, of the valley."

"Your Majesty," spoke the trembling man, bowing low before the king.

Kieran nodded, leaning back and stroking his short beard thoughtfully. "You may rise. What is it you wished to speak with me about?"

"Your Majesty, I bring you disturbing news. It is about your son, the crown prince."

Kieran sat up, his fist clenching on the arm of his throne. "My son? What do you know of him?"

"I am afraid that the Alliance has plans to have him killed, Your Majesty. They have discovered his identity and are already taking steps for his assassination."

"My son is safe in the human world," Kieran ground out, his face growing white. "He is hidden there, and well protected."

Séamus shrank back under the king's fury, but persevered. "There are powerful people behind this plan, Your Majesty," he managed. "I, myself, was one of them, until Lord.... Until their leader had my brother killed in punishment for his insubordination." Séamus raised his head and looked up at his king with imploring eyes. "Mícheál was only a boy, Your Majesty. He did not deserve to die that way."

Adamhán spoke quietly from the king's side. "He was the one who died in the prisons?"

"Yes," Séamus answered softly, wiping a tear from his eye. "He... He had attempted to kill the crown prince...."

"What?!" Kieran was out of his seat in an instant, dark brown eyes flashing. "And you come here for my sympathy...."

"No! No, Your Majesty!" Séamus fell to his knees and clasped his hands in supplication. "Please, Majesty, I know that he was wrong! I know this! For a long time, now, I have doubted the integrity of The Alliance! It used to be an institution of justice and peace, but I fear that now it is run by a man who cares only for himself. I do not know if it is best for our people to have a half-breed as king...." He ignored the king's thunderous scowl and continued blindly, "But I do know that Lord Geoffrey is...."

Kieran sat down hard, his face draining of all color. "Lord Geoffrey?"

Séamus gasped, his own face going pale as he realized what he had said.

"My brother, Lord Geoffrey? He heads the Alliance?"

The throne room was absolutely silent for a long moment before Séamus gave a weary nod. "Yes, Your Majesty."

"My own brother!" Kieran reached blindly toward Adamhán, who grimly placed a goblet in his shaking hand. Kieran took a long drink and closed his eyes, letting the magic-laced potion calm his ragged nerves and clear his thoughts. "Lord Séamus," he said when he felt in more control of himself. "Tell me everything you know."

~*~

In retrospect, Chris realized that he should have explained the "Luck of the Irish" spell a little better. The very genius of the spell was exactly what limited it. As long as its protective effects had to appear to be an accident, and as long as it was protecting more than one person, it could never guarantee that everyone would escape completely unscathed. That was why JC was currently in the trauma center of the hospital with a bullet in his shoulder, but Joey, Justin, and Lance didn't really see it that way.

Chris sighed and looked across the room at the three men huddled together, studiously ignoring him. He wanted nothing more than to join them, soaking up their comfort and reassurances, but they had made it very clear that he wasn't welcome. He had to make do with the absolute knowledge that JC would be fine. The Book of Legends had promised that much.

He kept running through the attack in his mind, wondering if it could have gone differently. They had been on their way to their limo from a radio station where they had given an interview, when suddenly JC had tripped and fallen to the side, stumbling into Chris. It wasn't until JC went limp in his arms that Chris heard the crack of the gunshot, and by then, JC's shirt was already red with blood.

Chris closed his eyes and magically recreated those moments in his mind, freezing the scene at the second JC had been hit. "The Luck of the Irish" had definitely been in effect...the bullet that had hit JC had been headed straight for Chris' heart. He backed up the action slowly, paying careful attention to JC this time. He nodded grimly as he opened his eyes, letting the memory spell dissipate. JC had tripped over absolutely nothing...an innocent pawn in the spell's protections.

Well, at least that same spell would be protecting JC in the trauma center. Chris suspected he'd have nothing worse than a broken bone or two.

A commotion outside drew his attention, and Chris lifted weary eyes to the windows. They were tinted so that those inside could see out, but those outside could see only shadow. That was working to their advantage now, since the crowd outside the hospital had been steadily growing by the minute. It hadn't escaped anyone's notice that the bullet had been meant for Chris, and the press was having a field day. Add to that the unsuccessful attack on him only a few weeks before...well, to Chris it was over six years past, but to the rest of the world, it was less than a month...everyone wanted to know who wanted NSync's Chris Kirkpatrick dead, and why. Chris almost wished he could tell them the truth, if only to stop the rampant speculation. At least the fans were being supportive. Already he could see signs popping up with proclamations of love and well-wishes for JC, along with encouraging messages for the rest of them. "Don't blame yourself, Chris," one said, in bright orange lettering. "We don't."

Unfortunately, Justin, Joey, and Lance did.

Chris jumped as he felt a hand fall on his shoulder. "Christopher."

He looked up in shock and surprise, to find Adamhán and Quinlan looking down at him sympathetically. "Adam? Quinn? How...?" He realized belatedly that all of the noise around him had stopped, and no one else was moving. "Oh."

"We came as soon as we heard," Quinlan said, taking a seat beside Chris and placing a hand on his back, rubbing it comfortingly. "How are you holding up?"

Chris suddenly felt like crying. "Oh, God, I don't know. I mean.... I know JC's gonna be fine, he's under a mother of a protection spell, but I just hate that he had to get hurt instead of me. Why couldn't the spell have just made me trip? And now the others aren't talking to me...."

"Wait, wait a moment, Christopher." Adamhán frowned slightly. "What spell?"

"I... it's from The Book," Chris answered miserably. "I cast it over all five of us. It protects us from serious harm, but makes it look like an accident, so it can't be detected. It made JC trip so he could take the bullet in a less lethal place than I would have."

"Hmm...." Quinlan scratched his chin thoughtfully. "This is the protection spell he's under now?" Chris nodded. "Can you perform a re-creation spell for us, Christopher? I'd like to see what happened for myself."

"Yeah, sure, why not." Chris performed the spell easily, barely having to think about it anymore. He kept his eyes closed until it was over, not wanting to see it again. He'd already made his conclusions.

"It couldn't," Adamhán said, when it was over.

Chris opened his eyes. "What?"

"It couldn't have made you trip." Adamhán squeezed Chris's shoulder. "You said you'd cast the protection spell over all five of you?" When Chris gave a confused nod, he continued. "Well, it only had a limited time in which to act. It couldn't move you out of the way because Joey was right behind you."

Chris sucked in a shocked and horrified breath. "He'd have.... it would've been a gut shot if it hit him!"

"Probably, yes. And having all five of you trip and fall at the same time would have looked suspicious. Moving someone into the bullet's path was the best way to protect you all without arousing suspicions of a magical interference. Jamming the gun would most likely have left magical residue."

"Just be glad it was one of you, who was at least protected, instead of an innocent bystander who may well have been killed," Quinlan added quietly. "It was for the best."

Chris nodded wearily after a moment, seeing the truth in those words. "Yeah, well.... Tell that to them." He motioned at Joey, Justin, and Lance, who were frozen in place on the far side of the near-empty waiting room. "They're pretty pissed at me."

"They are frightened and upset," Adamhán corrected. "They know perfectly well that you didn't want this to happen, and they will come around. We've been watching you, Christopher, and all of these boys love you just as deeply as you love them. Trust in them to come to their senses."

Chris sniffled, feeling his eyes beginning to well with tears. "And JC?"

"Will be glad to know that you're alright."

The dam finally burst and Chris buried his face in his hands, sobbing helplessly. Adamhán and Quinlan closed their arms around him and just let him cry, and when he had finally exhausted himself...the torrent of tears slowing to mere trickles...he looked up and found not his two teachers holding him, but his three brothers, all with sad, red eyes. And he started to cry all over again.

~*~

"What happened?" Lord Geoffrey stared coldly down at the quaking sniper kneeling at his feet. "Why is the false prince still alive?"

"I.... I'm sorry, my Lord. It was an accident, a mistake of fate. There was another who stepped in front of him...."

"And why, then, did you not shoot again? Your sight and your aim were aided by magic, were they not?"

"Y...yes, my Lord. But the false prince is surrounded by guards. They closed ranks about him the moment the first shot was made. And the crowd...."

"No excuses!" the furious Lord roared, sending the unfortunate sniper cringing back. "We are The Alliance, not some pitiful excuse for a militia! And yet we cannot seem to kill one half-human bastard?!" He stopped, eyes narrowing, a glimmer of a realization dissipating the rage. "He is protected, then. He must be. My brother is not so much of a fool as I had thought." He looked back down at the sniper, who was still trembling at his feet. "Get up," he ordered coldly. "Get out of my sight."

The sniper was escorted out of the meeting room, and Geoffrey took a seat at the head of the table, waiting until all of his Elders had taken their seats before speaking again.

"The false prince is being protected magically. I need to find out how, and by whom. Once his protector is eliminated, he will be defenseless against us. I suspect that old fool, Quinlan has a hand in it. He has been at court with Kieran for the past several weeks, and I have heard nothing about why."

"My... my lord?" One soft voice near the end of the table spoke, and a grey-robed man stood slowly. "I... I have heard things about Quinlan. They are only rumor, and seem most outrageous, but...."

The man trailed off as Geoffrey regarded him with a cold stare. "Séamus. You have been at court?"

"Y... yes, my Lord. I have been."

"And for what purpose?"

"I was called to the king, my Lord. He has ordered some of the land in my valley to be used for royal crops."

Lord Geoffrey stared at him for a long while, noting the quaking of Séamus's hands beneath the robes. "And what is this rumor you have heard, Séamus?" he queried finally, "that is so urgent that I hear?"

"The Book of Legends has awakened."

~*~

Kieran sighed as he sipped at the elixir provided to him by Adamhán, well aware that he had been depending too much upon the brew to calm his nerves, but unable yet to wean himself of it. "Have you spoken to the prince?" he asked, curving his fingers around the arm of the throne to keep his hand from trembling.

"Yes, Your Majesty," Adamhán answered calmly. "He is safe, for now, as is his friend. The human doctors seemed encouraged at how little real damage was done."

"Good. I.... You say he is close to these humans?"

"Very much so, Your Majesty. They are good friends to him."

"I wish he wasn't so visible." Kieran said, feeling the fear and worry that had been clouding his mind dissipating with every sip. "What possessed him to become so famous in the first place?"

Adamhán's smile was audible in his voice, though he tried valiantly to keep it from his face. "I doubt he had any inkling of how his singing group would turn out, Your Majesty," he answered simply. "Besides, it is as much an advantage as it is a liability. He has a good reason now to be guarded against harm. And I have seen those guards." He paused thoughtfully. "They are quite large."

"But human," Kieran put in miserably. "And certainly not impervious to magic."

"No. Loyal and strong, Kieran." Adamhán dropped for formality just for a moment, becoming mentor and friend to the king rather than subject. "Friends as well as protectors."

"Yes." Kieran laid the empty goblet on the arm of his throne and sighed once more. "Well, what of Lord Séamus? Do you truly believe that he will assist us against my...." He stopped, unable to finish. "Against The Alliance?"

"Yes." Adamhán leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms thoughtfully. "He loved his brother, Your Majesty, and was devastated at his death. That Lord Geoffrey ordered it only cemented his resolve to stop The Alliance at any cost. He will be of great help to us."

"But The Book of Legends? Why leak such an absurd lie? What good will it do?"

Adamhán only smiled secretively. "Lord Geoffrey will not believe that a half-human child like your son could be The Prophesied One, as well he shouldn't. But he will be unable to resist the urge to investigate the lie. Most rumors do have a basis in fact."

"So he will investigate. What then? How can you assure me that Christopher will survive this?"

"Have faith in your son, Kieran. He is stronger than you think."

~*~

JC was sleepy and pliant when he was released from the hospital...all smiles and declarations of love and devotion to everyone he saw. His friends took great care not to jostle his heavily-bandaged shoulder as they helped him into his hotel room and tucked him into bed, and he seemed to enjoy the attention.

"You know what?" he sing-songed drowsily, reaching out with his good arm to grab Joey's hand, missing by a mile. "You know whaaaaat?"

"No, what?" Joey asked, gently grabbing hold of the flailing hand and tucking it back under the covers.

"You're my best friend in the world. My best friend with a beard. And Lance is my best green-eyed friend. He has reaaally pretty eyes. And Justin is my best friend with curly hair. And Chris is my best friend who is a leprechaun. And nobody's gonna hurt him, ever, cuz I'm his best friend too and I won't let them."

Chris left the room.

~*~

"Chris? Can I come in?"

Chris flinched at the nervous and apologetic tone of JC's voice and forced a smile onto his face as he turned his head to face the younger man hovering in the open doorway. "Sure. Have a seat." He patted the couch cushions and JC walked slowly into the room taking a seat at his side.

"Um...." JC scratched idly at his bandaged shoulder, then winced and dropped his hand. "Um... I really don't remember last night too well, but I'm pretty sure I said something dumb and upset you."

"You didn't say anything dumb," Chris lied, keeping his eyes firmly on the television screen.

JC paused for a moment before speaking quietly. "It wasn't your fault, you know."

Chris withheld another flinch through sheer force of will. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Chris...." JC picked up the remote control and turned off the television, shifting his body to face Chris. "Look at me, please."

Chris gave a defeated sigh and turned his head, brown eyes meeting blue.

"It was not your fault," JC repeated, taking hold of Chris' hand and squeezing it tightly. "Lance told me what happened...how they treated you...and they were wrong to do that. The only people at fault here are the ones who planned this and the one who pulled the trigger. I was in the best position to keep you alive, and the spell protected me, too. It could have been a lot worse for both of us, but it worked out okay."

"I just...." Chris sighed and brushed JC's shoulder with the tips of his fingers. "I hate that you had to get hurt to protect me. I never wanted that."

"I know you didn't. It's alright, really. Besides, I'm not even hurt that badly."

Chris glared at him in exasperation. "JC, you got shot!"

"Well, yeah, but it's just a flesh wound." JC grinned, shrugging his uninjured shoulder. "I always wanted to say that!"

~*~

The one good thing about JC's injury was that it had given the group a much needed break from the rigors of fame. Instead of their scheduled endless interviews and appearances, they were enjoying a full week off...time for JC to begin the healing process and for the rest of them to relax and regroup. Plus, it gave their management and security time to figure out how to protect Chris from whoever was trying to kill him.

Chris sighed to himself and stretched out all of his limbs, deliberately digging his toes into JC's side to make him giggle. The five of them were gathered in one hotel room, draped all over the furniture as a movie played on the television. The other four were all watching the screen, laughing and making comments about the crappy dialogue and unlikely plot, but Chris wasn't even sure what movie they were watching. He was too lost in thought to pay full attention.

He was pretty sure he didn't feel guilty about things anymore... or, at least not as guilty as he had before. But there was still a sense of doubt that he was doing the right thing by sticking around. As long as he was here, with his friends, they would be in as much danger from The Alliance as he was. Not to mention Johnny, Sexual Chocolate, and any fans unlucky enough to get too close. He shuddered as he thought of all of the young people who had been present when JC was shot. How many of those kids would see the bloody event over and over again in their dreams?

The Book of Legends afforded the five of them some measure of protection...okay, a heck of a lot of protection, really...but that left everyone else vulnerable. There was the possibility of casting the spell on all of their management and staff, but that still left the fans and any local hires unprotected. Plus, he wasn't sure there was a way to cast the spell without being obvious about it, what with the green glitter most of his magic seemed to generate.

He sighed again, and JC turned his head to look at him inquiringly. Chris forced a smile onto his face and shrugged. JC glanced down at his knee and raised an eyebrow in question. Chris only hesitated a moment before nodding and shifting his body until his knee was on JC's lap, ready for a massage. The joint hadn't been sore at all, lately, but it was easier to let JC believe that was the problem than to try to explain all of the thoughts racing through his head. Besides, JC gave great massages, even one-handed.

Chris turned his face to the television screen and tried to think. Adam and Quinn wanted him to stay here. The guys wanted him to stay here. Johnny didn't know what was going on, but if he had, he'd definitely want Chris to stay here. So would Sexual Chocolate. He had obviously been outvoted in that regard. But he simply could not relax, worrying about what could happen. Getting killed would suck, yes, but watching his friends get hurt or killed, all because of him.... He shuddered and JC murmured an apology, thinking he had hit a sore spot on Chris' knee.

That decided him. He sat up suddenly, startling them all, and opened his mouth to give them the bad news. Then, someone called his name.

Christopher.

He froze, looking around at all of them as they stared back at him in confusion. "What?"

Joey frowned. "What what?"

"What?" Justin asked.

"I.... Huh?"

Christopher.

"What? Who said that?"

"Said what?" Lance was frowning at him, his green eyes concerned. "Are you feeling okay?"

"One of you called my name." They all stared back at him silently. He faltered, suddenly feeling a chill. "Didn't you?"

Christopher, do not be afraid. It is I who have called to you.

And The Book of Legends appeared suddenly before him in a blinding burst of green light and glitter.

Chris yelped something that may have sounded embarrassingly like "Ack!" and dove behind the couch, startled. The Book... chuckled.

I suppose it is useless to entreat someone not to be afraid before making such a dramatic entrance. I do apologize. Christopher, please come to me.

The Book was floating just above the couch, raining spurts of green glitter on JC, who was staring up at it in wonder.

"Uhhh...." Lance was the first to find his voice. "Chris? Your book is, um...."

"Doing things," Joey finished, while Justin nodded vigorously.

Chris poked his head up from behind the couch and eyed The Book cautiously. "Um.... Hello?"

Hello, It answered, still sounding amused. It was then that Chris realized he hadn't been hearing the voice out loud, but in his head.

"Can... can you guys hear that?" he asked, creeping out from behind the couch and approaching The Book slowly.

"I don't hear anything," Justin answered, finally finding his voice. "Is that who was calling you?"

"Um...." Chris stopped just in front of The Book, which was floating right at eye level. "Can you talk... out loud? Or, to them, too? I want.... They should hear whatever it is you have to say."

The Book was silent for a long moment, before it finally seemed to make a decision. The greenish light surrounding it flared once, and then it spoke again.

As you wish.

JC, Justin, Joey, and Lance all jumped in surprise as the voice echoed in their heads as well. Justin fell off his chair.

Chris smiled a little, and The Book chuckled again. It continued to glow and spurt glitter, all of which disappeared as it hit the carpet. I have been asleep for a long time, Christopher, It told him, its sexless voice warm and somehow affectionate. But I knew you were The One the moment I Sensed you. You are not what many have envisioned, but they will understand in time. I have chosen to reveal myself now because you are in great danger. Your Uncle, Lord Geoffrey, is even now planning for your demise, and he does not care how many must die in the process. However, he does not realize the great power you have at your command. It is time, Christopher, to put the Prophecy in motion.

"What prophecy?" JC asked, standing and speaking directly to The Book.

It was decided long ago, by powers greater than any of you have ever known, that there would be One who would bring great riches, peace, and happiness to both Leprechaun and Humankind. The Prophesied One would be a most powerful leprechaun, but with solid and unbreakable ties to the human world. Who better for that than Christopher? It has been many years since The Prophesy was made, and there are few leprechauns left today who still understand what it means. This is how it was fated, for if Leprechaunkind had remembered The Prophesy in its entirety, the identity of my chosen one might have been much too obvious. Christopher, and all half-breeds like him, would have been killed in infancy.

All five of them shuddered at the thought, and the Book, too seemed somewhat distressed.

But the Prophecy, and my Chosen One, were protected, it continued. And now, because of the plotting and actions of the evil one, we must begin to set these ancient plans in motion.

JC, Joey, Justin, and Lance all exchanged looks in silent conversation. Then, Lance spoke. "How can we help?"

I was hoping you would ask, said The Book.

~*~

Lord Geoffrey sat brooding in his empty meeting room, drumming long, elegant fingers on the tabletop. The gauzy, purple curtains on all of the windows had been pulled shut, casting the room in shadow. That suited Geoffrey just fine...it matched his dark mood perfectly.

He was surrounded by cowardice and idiocy. The Alliance had once been a powerful and widely feared organization, and it had earned that reputation rightly. Not even the king was above the scrutiny and policing of The Alliance, and many had lost their heads in opposition.

Geoffrey growled and curled his fingers into a fist. Why, then, could they not kill the false prince?

It should have been easy. He was half-human, weak, and surrounded by other weaklings, all human. Even the so-called "bodyguards," though admittedly large, should have been no match for the might of The Alliance. And what of Séamus' rumor?

Geoffrey curled his lip in derision. Séamus was not to be trusted. None of his Elders were worthy, but Séamus least of all. Perhaps it would have been wiser to keep Mícheál alive. At least then.... But, no. Séamus' weakness had been revealed in the wake of his brother's death. It was always better to know one's enemy.

He narrowed his eyes in thought. Séamus had said the rumor came from the king's court. Did the king know, then, of his affiliation with The Alliance? Aye, his leadership of it? Perhaps. If Séamus had told him. This rumor, then, could it be a trick? Something the king and his advisors had concocted to trap him into revealing himself? It was unlikely. Why a rumor so outlandish as that? The idea that The Book of Legends had chosen the false prince as its champion was beyond preposterous. But the rumor had to have begun somehow. Perhaps The Book had awakened. But who, then, was its champion? Who was The Prophesied One?

Geoffrey stood, striding swiftly from the room and down the hidden caverns of The Alliance's headquarters toward his rooms in the castle. There was much planning to be done, if he was to find the answers to all of his questions. He would discover the truth behind the rumor and kill the false prince himself while he was at it.

And then... well, then there would be time to purge the weak and stupid from the ranks of the once-mighty Alliance. Starting with Séamus.

~*~

Sometimes, it was a hardship to be king.

Kieran stifled a sigh and tried to listen as one of the nobles from the plains droned on and on about the coming rains and what would the Crown be doing to ensure the safety of his people against flooding from the nearby mountains? Not that it wasn't a valid concern, of course it was, but honestly, must it take the man so long to come to a conclusion?

Not for the first time, he wished he had Adamhán at his side. The man was invaluable when dealing with temperamental subjects, always seeming to nod and hum sympathetically at all the right times. Kieran sometimes wondered why Adamhán could not be king in his stead. He would certainly be better at it. But Adamhán had not been born a royal, and so they both had to be content with who and what they were. An accident of fate had made him king, and another accident of fate had made Christopher the target of The Alliance. Why did he have to have such a weakness for human women? But, no. Christopher was special, and apparently much loved by all those around him. The world would have been diminished, had he not been born.

The heavy oak doors to the throne room suddenly opened, and Kieran snapped back into awareness as the noble finally stopped talking, turning to the door with an affronted look of displeasure.

Adamhán nodded politely at him from the doorway, his lips twitching in a most peculiar fashion. "I beg your pardon, Lord Lanigan. Your Majesty, your captain has urgent news. I am afraid it could not wait for the end of your council."

Kieran stood, grateful for the interruption. It certainly couldn't be anything to worry about, or Adamhán would be grim. "Send him in, then."

Adamhán stepped aside, but Kieran's visitor was not who he expected. A small girl, wearing a set of armor much to big for her slight body, barreled into the throne room, clanging horribly. She stumbled up to the throne and knelt before the king with difficulty, nearly falling over under the weight of the armor. "Your Majesty!" she cried, obviously distraught. "It is I, Captain Fergal, of the King's Guard!"

"Cap...." Kieran glanced back up at Adamhán, who had lost the battle to hide his smile. "Catain Fergal?"

"Your Majesty, the entire King's Guard have just turned into adolescent human girls!" Her voice rose to almost a shriek. "For no reason!"

This time, Kieran looked up into Adamhán's amused eyes and held them. "Christopher," they said in unison.

~*~

Chris sat surrounded by his friends and tried to ignore the glares he was still getting from Johnny, Anthony, and Sexual Chocolate. Not surprisingly, they hadn't believed him at first when he'd admitted to being a leprechaun prince. Even removing the concealing spell from his pointed ears hadn't done it. At that point, The Book of Legends had finally revealed itself to them, ending all arguments right then and there. No one could really deny the... magicness... of a large floating, glowing book that showered spurts of green glitter. Especially once they'd all taken turns waving their hands over the top of it, looking for wires.

Of course, now they were pissed at him for keeping it a secret, but at least they knew.

The Book had told them that things would be coming to a head soon, and insisted that they must all be ready to confront Chris' would-be killer on this day, at 3:26 pm, Eastern Standard time. Apparently, The Book's predictions were very precise. And so, with the help of Johnny and Anthony, they had rented out this very arena and put up a stage as though a concert was to be held. Of course, the place was a ghost town right now, since The Book had also insisted that they hire no one to crew the concert, and not let the news of it leak out to the fans. It had been a difficult feat, but between the two of them, Lance and Johnny probably could have taken over a small country with few problems, so the plan was in motion.

And now they were all sitting here in one of the dressing rooms of this deserted arena, waiting for something to happen. And, in Chris' case, getting glared at.

"I shoulda known you weren't human," Anthony muttered, squinting at Chris' pointed ears. "Too weird."

Chris rolled his eyes and pretended to be insulted. "I'll have you know that I am one of the most normal leprechauns you'll ever meet."

"That is the scariest thing you have ever said." Anthony paused, thinking about it. "Which is scary in itself."

"What are we waiting for, anyway?" Justin burst out, practically vibrating with nerves. "There's nobody here! How are we gonna stop this guy? What if there's more than one? And they can all do magic and we can't! What if...."

Quinlan suddenly appeared in the room in a muted burst of light. "I believe I can be of assistance," he said, grinning.

Sexual Chocolate all surged forward at once, but Chris was much faster than all of them. "Quinlan!" he shouted, leaping forward and tackling his teacher in a hug. The bodyguards relaxed.

Quinlan laughed as he staggered backward under Chris' weight. "Careful, Young Christopher! I am an old man, remember?"

"You can't be a day over 2000," Chris countered, even as he helped Quinlan to regain his balance. "So what's happening? The Book told me it had arranged for reinforcements, but it didn't get any more specific than that."

"Come with me," Quinlan said, grinning mysteriously. "I'll show you."

~*~

Joey could not stop laughing.

Not even the dark and lethal glares of the Captain of the King's Guard could stop him, though considering that the Captain was now a 12-year old girl with pigtails, that wasn't too surprising.

The once-empty arena was now filled with adolescent girls, all milling about with expressions of varying degrees of disgust or annoyance on their faces. The girls were also extremely quiet, which was a nice change from the usual throng of screaming fans. The decibel levels emanating from a crowd like that would easily have deafened them all years ago, if not for the state-of-the-art earplugs they all wore for large appearances.

Adamhán was busy trying to coach all of the girls, actually the bulk of the King's Guard, on how to act like true NSync fans, while the king busied himself getting to know his son for the first time. The two had sequestered themselves in a corner of the green room, having been assured by The Book of Legends that it would know well in advance of Geoffrey's arrival and would warn them in time to take their places for the trap.

Kieran glanced over at the still chortling Joey and let out an uneasy laugh of his own. "That one seems like fun," he said awkwardly, gesturing with one bejeweled hand. "He... likes to laugh."

"Yeah," Chris answered, almost shyly, just as uncomfortable as his father. "He likes to be happy, and he always wants other people to be happy, too."

"I am very glad for you." Kieran paused, letting his eyes linger over each of his son's friends in turn. "They all seem like nice boys. And that... Johnny, was it? He cares for you all as well. And those large sexual candies of yours."

Chris nearly choked as he tried to bite back a laugh. "Sexual Chocolate, Da... err.... Your Majesty. We call them Sexual Chocolate."

Kieran's eyes grew misty. "You can call me Dad, if you like."

"Sorry," Chris said, almost reluctantly. "You've got to earn that. I'll just stick with Majesty, for now."

"Kieran, then? At least call me Kieran?"

"Yeah, okay." Chris gave his father a tentative smile, then quickly averted his gaze, watching what looked like a quiet argument between Quinlan and Captain Fergal. "Your Captain's not too happy about being a teenie."

"A what?"

"Teenie. Young fan-girl."

"Ah." Kieran nodded, easily accepting the change in subject. "I believe he wishes to be one of your bodyguards, instead. Or at least a crew member. Someone grown up. And male."

Chris snickered. "Yeah, I could see that. What did he look like before?"

"Quite intimidating. Almost as much so as one of your sexy truffles."

Chris opened his mouth to correct the king again, then shrugged and sat back. It would be funny to watch everyone's reactions when the king said something like that in front of Lonnie and the others.

"He was tall...well, tall for a leprechaun, anyway. About two inches shorter than you are."

Chris nodded. He found it to be a source of somewhat perverse pride that he towered inches over almost every leprechaun he met. It was one of the few advantages to being a half-breed.

"He had a thick, bushy beard and mustache, and a brow that stretched all the way across his face without a break above the nose."

"A unibrow," Chris put in.

"Yes," Kieran chuckled, filing the word away for future use. "He was muscle-bound and fierce, and could wield a sword so skillfully that no one would dare challenge him to combat. A good captain, and loyal."

"He'd have to be, I guess," Chris said, eyeing the Captain thoughtfully, "to be Captain of the King's Guard."

"Indeed." Kieran smiled proudly. "He was hand-picked for the job by Adamhán, from a pool of thousands of applicants. He has not let me down yet."

"Adamhán is... special to you, isn't he?" Chris asked quietly, noting the way his father's eyes softened when he spoke of his long-time advisor.

"What?" Kieran seemed startled by the question. "Well, of course he is, Christopher. The King's advisor is his most trusted ally. It is the lucky man who can count his advisor as a friend as well. Adamhán and I met when we were very young, and we grew up together. When it was time for me to take the throne after your grandfather's death, I knew that there was no one I trusted more than Adamhán. And I have not regretted it since."

"You know... I always used to think you didn't care about me when I was young."

Kieran opened his mouth to protest, but Chris continued quickly, not letting him speak.

"I never saw you at all; only heard about you from Adamhán. I figured I just wasn't worth your time." He paused, lips pursed, and Kieran held his tongue, waiting. "But you sent the man you trusted most in the world to keep an eye on me, so... I guess I was wrong about that."

"You were," Kieran answered, his throat growing tight. "I do care. I always have. I am very proud of you, my son, and I would still be proud of you even if you were not The Prophesied One."

Chris didn't get a chance to reply, as The Book of Legends appeared in mid-air with a burst of light.

It is time.

~*~

Lord Geoffrey walked unnoticed into the large arena where apparently a concert was being held by the group the false prince had formed. He had tracked the false prince here, and his efforts had been rewarded by the three squealing, giggling bimbos at the front of the arena who had confirmed to him that he man he sought was inside.

He fought to keep his face in a pleasant expression as he forced his way through the crowd. He walked among them effortlessly, having disguised himself to look just like one of them...minus the body glitter and the names painted on their cheeks and foreheads. The one concession he made was a T-shirt that read "JC is my Space Cowboy," with the "JC" scribbled out and the "Lance" written overtop of it in red marker. He wasn't sure what that meant, but he'd seen the shirt on one of the bimbos, so he assumed it had something to do with the false prince's group.

Someone bumped into him from behind and he turned, ready to bark out a warning, stopping just in time as he remembered where he was and who he was supposed to be. Another teenaged human grinned at him, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet. Geoffrey's eyes zeroed in on the backstage pass she had strung around her neck. "Oh," he said, a true smile curving his lips. "Hello."

"Hi!" the girl chirped. "I'm Laura, what's your name?"

He experienced a brief moment of panic, but fought it down. "Um, Briana," he blurted, randomly choosing the name of his last lover.

"Oooh, you have the same name as Joey's daughter! That's so cool," Laura gushed, clapping her hands. "Who's your favorite?"

Geoffrey glanced down at his shirt. "Uh, Lance. I guess."

"You don't know?" The girl wrinkled her nose teasingly. "Well, they're all pretty hot. I like Chris. He is sooooo sexy."

"Yes, right. Tell me, where did you get that backstage pass?"

"Oh my gosh, I totally won it in a radio contest. How cool is that! I get to meet all five of them backstage before the show, and even watch it from the wings if I want to! I'm so excited! Eeeeee! Chris!"

She let out a shriek that nearly burst Geoffrey's eardrums. He cringed away, his hands flying to his head in pain.

Laura clapped her hands over her mouth. "Oh my god, I'm sorry, but he makes me so crazy!"

"Right, yes." Geoffrey backed away slowly. "I have to go... somewhere."

He whirled and bolted away from her before she could do any damage, but as the crowd pressed in between them, cutting her off from view, he wrapped her in a net of magical energy so he would be able to find her easily. That backstage pass would make it easier for him to get backstage and within range of the false prince, and he wouldn't have to waste time and energy on complicated magic to do it. Instead, the moment he had found a small, unoccupied corner, he used a small, simple spell to swipe the unfortunate girl's pass and replace it with a shoddy replica. It would be enough to keep her from noticing anything was amiss, but not enough to actually get her backstage with her idols. It wouldn't do to have her present when he finally came face-to-face with the false prince. She might get in his way when it came time to kill the brat.

Backstage pass in hand, Geoffrey made his way further into the arena.

~*~

"He's in," Justin sighed, sagging in relief as he completed his part of the plan. He reached up to his neck and removed the fake backstage pass Geoffrey had planted when he'd stolen the original. "Dude, look at this thing! I could do way better with just construction paper and a crayon."

Joey, now a cute young thing in a denim skirt and babydoll tee, stepped up next to him snorted in amusement. "I think you enjoyed that a little too much, Timberlake" he said, tugging at Justin's sparkly ponytail.

"Hey, watch the hair!" Justin glared at him and patted his hair back into place. "You're wiping away the glitter."

Lance rolled his eyes and tugged at his own midriff-baring shirt. "I have never been so glad to be a man before," he grumbled. "Why do girls wear this stuff?"

JC giggled. "Yeah, right. You were totally flirting with Geoffrey when he passed us at the entrance."

That sobered them all, and they looked toward the doors into which Geoffrey had disappeared just seconds earlier. "Hope this all goes well," Joey said quietly, putting a hand on Justin's shoulder. "I'm not willing to lose Chris yet."

They all bowed their heads and prayed.

~*~

Geoffrey got all the way to the door of one of the dressing rooms before being challenged, but what a challenge it was. It seemed as though his way was blocked by two hundred feet of pure muscle. He looked up... and up... and up... into the face of a very unamused dark-skinned man. "Um, hello," he squeaked, then cleared his throat. "I'm Bri- uh... Laura. I won that contest." He held up the backstage pass he had slipped around his neck, and waited. The giant man took it in one hand and examined it carefully while Geoffrey tried not to tremble. This was the largest human he had ever seen. The man's hand was larger than his head. His normal head. "I like Chris the best," he started to babble nervously. "He is soooo sexy. Is he in there?"

The large man sighed and let the pass drop. "Wait here." He stepped backwards and into the dressing room, closing the door behind him. Geoffrey stepped forward cautiously and put his ear to the door, frowning when all he could hear were indistinct mumbles. Must be a thick door. He stumbled backward when that door opened again, abruptly. The large man glared down at him, obviously aware of what he'd been doing. "Come in," he said gruffly. "Someone's willing to see you."

Geoffrey felt his mouth go dry. This was it. The false prince's final hour was at hand. The excitement on his face as he stepped into the room was not at all feigned. It paid off when he saw who that "someone" was.

"Hi!" said Chris Kirkpatrick, waving at him with a bright grin. "I understand I'm your favorite?"

~*~

Kieran held his breath as the girl stepped into the room. He felt someone squeeze his hand in reassurance and knew it was Adamhán, but he didn't feel much assured. Maybe there was a mistake. Maybe it wasn't Geoffrey at all. Séamus could have been wrong, couldn't he? Geoffrey wouldn't want to kill his own nephew.

"Hey, Big Mike, why don't you wait outside," Chris said, right on cue. "This little lady and I want some quality time alone together, don't we?" He waggled his eyebrows suggestively and the girl giggled, nodding furiously.

Big Mike rolled his eyes but obeyed. "Your funeral, Kirkpatrick," he drawled, and Kieran flinched at the choice of words. The girl was forced to hide a quick smile. Then, she and Chris were alone in the room.

"So...." Chris took a seat on the couch and patted the cushion next to him for the girl to sit. She did so, gingerly. "Tell me, how long have you liked NSync?"

"Um.... Like.... Two years?" The girl's eyes darted from side to side and she vibrated with nervous tension. It was obvious to Kieran that she would act, and soon.

"Cool." Chris nodded, still smiling. "You have a favorite album?"

"Not really. I like them all."

"A favorite song, then." Chris stood, then, and headed for the mini refrigerator on the other side of the room, turning his back to the girl. "Hey, you want a soda?"

The girl grinned...a terrible, cruel grin that looked completely out of place on her cute, young face. "Oh, no, thank you." She stood, and the air in the room seemed to ripple. Chris froze, then whirled around to face not a young girl, but a grown man, holding a very large jeweled knife. "I have all I need right here."

Kieran felt his knees go weak, and only Adamhán's presence behind him kept him from falling. "Geoffrey," he breathed, and felt his heart break.

~*~

Chris watched with wide eyes as Geoffrey lunged forward, so quickly that the knife was merely a blur in his hands. But it was Geoffrey's eyes that went wide as the knife's point hit its target, only to shatter into a thousand pieces of useless metal.

It was over before he could even yell. Geoffrey was on the floor, Captain Fergal was standing over him with the point of a spear at his back, and the glamour disguising the room had faded to reveal all of the watchers who had witnessed the whole thing.

Captain Fergal grinned up at his king as Kieran, his advisor, and his son stepped out from their hiding places. "How was that, Prince Christopher?" he asked cockily, in Chris' own voice.

Chris eyed the doppelganger, impressed. "That was awesome, man. I thought you were really me. Well, except for the fact that I'm me, I mean."

Geoffrey looked up at the two of them, his eyes wild. "What? What?!"

Captain Fergal's disguise melted away as though made of wax, and Geoffrey gasped as he finally realized the extent of the trap that had been set for him.

Kieran stepped up to his brother's side and looked down at him with a mixture of anger, sadness, and pity. "I was told that you were behind the attempts on my son's life, Geoffrey," he said, only a small tremble audible in his voice. "I had hoped my informant was incorrect."

"How... How can this be?!" Geoffrey looked around at them, his fists clenching and unclenching in his agitation. "I did not sense any magic here! How...!"

"Ah, but Geoffrey," Adamhán smiled, almost kindly. "You must have known that most rumors have a basis in fact."

And The Book of Legends chose that moment to appear above their heads, raining a brilliant light down over the crown prince's head.

Geoffrey groaned and let his head fall back to the carpet with an audible thunk.

"Arrest him," Kieran said quietly, and turned his back. "It is over."

Epilogue

"So, um...." Justin's voice was quiet and sad, and Chris turned to find him standing in the doorway with JC, Joey, and Lance behind him. "I guess you'll be leaving soon, huh?"

Chris frowned, taking in their grim expressions and red eyes. "What?"

"Now that you're... out, I guess," Joey said, his voice tight and thin, "you have to go back to... leprechaun-land?"

Chris smiled. Just a little. "Who told you that?"

The four of them looked at each other, almost sheepishly. "Well, no one," Lance answered. "But...." He looked back at Chris, his eyes hopeful. "You're not leaving?"

"No!" Chris rolled his eyes and opened his arms, grunting when they all surged forward at once, tackling him to the bed in a rough group hug. "Geez," he squeaked from the bottom of the pile, fighting for breath. "You guys jump to so many conclusions...."

They rolled off him one by one and just lay there, panting with exertion and relief. "So, you're here, with us? For a while?" JC asked finally, giving Chris big watery puppy-dog eyes.

"Yes! Quit it with the eyes, already, I'm here, and I'll be here for a long time, yet. Yes, I'm 'out' to Leprechaunkind as their crown prince, but you guys and our people are still the only humans who know who and what I am. Plus, no leprechaun in his right mind will try to hurt me now, since The Book of Legends has revealed me to be The Prophesied One. Or, I guess I should say, even if some crazy S.O.B. does try anything, I'm more than well-protected, wouldn't you say? The Book won't let anything happen to its Chosen One, and Sexual Chocolate have those amulets Quinlan gave them that sense and repel harmful magic. I'm perfectly safe right where I am."

"I guess we just... got scared." Justin sounded humble and embarrassed, not a familiar set of emotions to him.

"Yeah, yeah." Chris grinned and waved his hand in the air, showering all of them with purely decorative green glitter. "Love you, too."

End

Email: kittie.verdena@gmail.com