Can’t get enough of SyFy’s new show Lost Girl? Neither can we, so we’ve begun a weekly recap. Don’t miss Heather Waters’s thoughts on episodes 1-3 or Kiersten Krum’s recaps of episode 4, episode 5, episode 6, episode 7, and episode 8.
And now, on to the recap of episode 9, “Fae Day”...
We begin with a shot of Bo, her face bisected by the blade of the sword she’s holding. Switch to a long shot of her in profile holding a perfect lunge with the katana extended. She slowly moves through a series of impressive slashes, thrusts, parries, and spins, which beg the question as to from where she suddenly developed serious martial arts skillz, but whatever. With each move her faces becomes more angry until she’s gritting her teeth and she spins and hi-yas herself right into Kenzi’s sunglass-covered face. “Pre-dawn calisthenics,” Kenzi observes. “Awesome.” Bo apologizes and claims insomnia but refuses to talk about it. Kenzi: “Right so the not-being-able-to-save-Luanne-Vex-having-information-about-your-mother thing…” Bo: “Never happened.”
Kenzi plays with a crossbow and begs to differ as Bo’s fae friends are leaving messages on Kenzi’s cell phone. Namely Trick, who wants Bo to come over to The Dal. Bo pulls the crossbow from Kenzi and removes her sunglasses. “We’ll go for one drink,” she agrees reluctantly taking the phone and reading the message. “I really need a break from the fae and their shit.” Kenzi uses this opportunity to reclaim the crossbow, which Bo again removes from her clutches.
Hang on. Pre-dawn calisthenics but they’re going to The Dal for a drink? Wha-huh –eh, whatever. If I try to figure out all the time differentials in this show, I’ll wind up in Faeville myself.
Bo and Kenzi enter The Dal to find a Celtic party in full swing complete with Irish jig music. “And, cue the fae and their shit,” Kenzi says, hiding behind Bo as she dodges a woman carrying a python. I totally share the snake willies BTW. Bleh.
It occurs to me that this episode is playing the week of St. Patrick’s Day and so I raise a hearty Sláinte to the Syfy Channel for canny scheduling.
Trick is, well, tricked out in an embroidered smoking jacket. “So you are alive,” he notes with pleasure. “Barely,” Bo admits. Trick offers to lend her an ear if she wants to talk about what happened with Vex, but Bo really doesn’t and admits she only came by to thank him face to face. “But right now what I really need a vacation.” Kenzi, pointedly: “Faecation.”
Gesturing to the party around them, Trick wonders if maybe all this will help. Kenzi notes that it looks like a hell of a party. “It’s not a party,” Trick corrects her with strained patience. “It’s La Shoshain.” Bo and Kenzi together: “La-what now?” Hee.
Trick explains that it’s the most sacred day of the year and he wanted Bo to see it. Nearby, a lovely woman strums a full Irish harp. Kenzi asserts that it looks like a party to her. Trick admits that it is the one time when light and dark fae are allowed to mix amongst each other. “And some do take it as an opportunity to – how can I put this delicately – fornicate across party lines.”
Kenzi: “I am liking this Fae Day!” Insulted, Trick immediately asserts that it is not Fae Day. It’s “La Shoshain,” Kenzi and Bo repeat with him. “It’s spiritual!” Trick insists. The strums of the harp seem to cement that. Kenzi wonders if he has any specialty cocktails for the day. “To go,” Bo insists.
Strum, strum, strum. The harpist finishes her tune, her expression turning a little weird as though she’s trying not to vomit as she puts up the harp and slowly stands. She lets loose with an unholy wail that sounds like a dolphin that just got dumped by her boyfriend. Everyone stops in their tracks and covers their ears. The moment she’d finished wailing, the woman runs away. “What the hell was that?!” Bo asks Trick. Trick is too busy to answer, immediately ending the celebration and calling for the bar to empty. He explains that the woman was a bean sidhe. “A ban shee?” Bo repeats. “Wait don’t they have something to do with –” Trick: “Death? Yes. They predict it.” He looks around the room with trepidation. “Someone in here is going to die. Soon.”
Trick is still kicking people out, or at least anyone not a member of the Five Families. He explains to Bo that the bean sidhe only wails for the noble houses, of which there are five human and five fae. “And if you’re not of noble blood, then you’re safe,” she posits. “That’s the theory,” Trick agrees. “You’re awfully curious for someone who wants to take a break from us all.”
Speaking of breaks… Dyson enters and his entrance stops Bo in her tracks. Trick apparently called him on the wolf hotline. “Haven’t seen you in a while,” he says to Bo. “Yeah well I needed some space,” she snits. “Lots to think about.” Yeah, like that whole I care thingamajob.
Trick comes back around from the bar with an address for Dyson for the harpist’s human booking agent. Bo wonders if they’re going to track down the bean sidhe and make her take back the curse. Trick informs her that bean sidhes don’t cause death, they foretell it. Dyson adds that they can make her talk and tell who exactly is marked by her wail. He’s going to show Bo how to do it. Bo wonders why she has to do it. “La Shoshain is a holy day,” Dyson explains. “We can’t feed, use our gifts, or use violence. You, being secular, aren’t bound by those laws.” Bo is entertained by the fact that he needs her this time. “Ask nicely,” she demands.
He points out that she’d be helping out. “Say please,” she insists. Again with the please bit! Dyson avoids actually saying it this time. Come to think of it, he hasn’t said it yet. Instead, he adds that she doesn’t know who her family is and could be of noble blood and thus at risk herself. “Close enough!” Bo decides.
Bo calls for Kenzi, who is sitting on the bar chowing down on all the extra food now that most of the guests have gone. “You guys knock yourselves out,” she shouts, mouth full, as Trick looks on with irritation. “This food isn’t going to eat itself.” Behind her, Dyson doesn’t take his eyes off of Bo for a minute. She is pointedly not looking at him.
Trick snits that only those of noble blood should stay. Insulted, Kenzi claims that she could have noble blood. “No, if like some dude boned my great-great grandmother. I am sure she was a real hot wench!” Trick stalks off in a snit and Dyson follows, telling Bo he’ll meet her in the car. In Tolkien’s parlor, Trick is shoving clothes into a duffle. Dyson wonders what gnome got up his butt. Trick admits that he’s packing Luanne’s things as he intervened in her execution and she’s been staying with him ever since until she left this morning. Dyson wonders when Trick started helping dark fae and Trick reveals that Luanne was the midwife at Bo’s birth and ergo they owe her. Dyson goes all intense as he wonders when they’re going to stop keeping Bo in the dark about who her mother is. I’d say right around season finale time, if I don’t miss my guess. Trick: “As long as we can.”
He notes that Dyson is doing well, and I guess he means at staying away from Bo given that there’s been some time since they’ve seen one another after the events of Vexed. “No, I’m not,” Dyson insists. “I’m lying to her!” Trick: “You were the one who decided to become emotionally involved.” Dyson: “Maybe you should too.” By the look on Trick’s face, he already has. Ooohhhh. Male angst. It’s so rich and tasty!
Dyson wonders what they’re going to do if Aoife (presumably, Bo’s mother) shows up. “When she shows up,” Trick stresses, “there will have to be a reckoning.” That definitely sounds like a season ender there! He orders Dyson to go find the bean sidhe as the sooner they find out who she cried for, the sooner that person can start planning their death.
Dyson and Bo walk down a hallway and get on an old, small elevator as Bo snarks that she thought Dyson would have to use the stairs so as not to use electricity. He tells her the rules for Fae Day are specific: “No powers, no fae on fae violence, no feeding on humans. It’s all about sacrifice.” He adds that it commemorates the sacrifice made by the Blood King. Bo whines that it’s blood this, sacrifice that, but with very little detail. “Well, we’re talking about stuff that happened more than a thousand years ago,” Dyson admits. “It’s more myth than fact.” She’s pleased to know that there are stories then and Dyson says yes, there are but these days all that matters are the written laws. As the elevator reaches their floor, she cajoles that he must know one story he can tell her. “Bo,” he says, exasperated, as he pushes the gate back, “read a book.” She sneers and follows him. They are adorable throughout this entire scene.
Inside the office is a woman doing a pretty good impression of Regina Falange holds up a finger as Bo and Dyson enter and finishes her call with “yeah, you can sleep on it in that crack house you call a home.” Hilton Hovel is franchising?!
Dyson holds up his badge and asks for Siobhan McManus, saying they need to ask a few questions about a recent gig. The agent hems and haws, but then someone sneezes in the closet, and Bo opens the door to find Siobhan the bean sidhe hiding there. Dyson tells the agent they need her office for about 20 minutes.
Back at The Dal, Kenzi is still eating and catches the eye of a cute guy who is watching her. “What? Death gives me an appetite.” Cut Guy points out the old man standing behind Kenzi “Almost 900 years old,” he informs her “if anyone’s checking out in the next little while, it’s him.” Kenzi offers to start a death pool with him and Cute Guy looks intrigued by the notion that she gambles.
Back at the agent’s office, Siobhan is grousing that her situation sucks. “All I wanted was to play the gig, get paid, get wasted… get laid.” I’ve been to weddings that followed along those lines. Not for me, of course. Nope. No personal experience here whatsoever.
Siobhan hates being made to talk and Bo apologies as she duct tapes Siobhan to the chair, offering that if there was any other way…but Siobhan’s knows there isn’t as the information is buried in her subconscious. “Make those tight, chickie boo,” she orders. “This is going to get messy.” Oh, now I can hardly wait.
For his part, Dyson is setting up a blender before pulling out a brown paper wrapped package. Look, I know the wolf junk is impressive, but I did not expect him to pull that outta his pants. (What else you got hiding down there, wolf boy, hmmmm?) He dangles an actual piece of liver before Siobhan and Bo before dropping it into the blender and their disgust is mirrored by my own. Bo: “Oh please do not tell me you are going to–” He turns on the blender confirming her fears and by the sound of it he went with “chop” when I would’ve chosen “puree”, but to each his own.
Bo wonders doubtfully if the liver shake will make Siobhan talk and the bean sidhe reveals that her kind as a real bad allergic reaction to iron. Dyson holds the liver shake out to Bo. “Oh no, no. Back away with the liver shake.” I know it’s been a while since my Celtic history days, but I don’t remember this stuff being in The Annals of Ulster. Amused, Dyson reminds her that he can’t get physical today, and I’ve just realized that means no hot wolf sex. Boo! Suddenly I hate Fae Day. But wait, Trick already said that cross-party fornication is one of the perks of Fae Day. That puts wolf sex back on the menu! Yay Fae Day!
“You have to force her to drink it,” Dyson tells Bo, who recoils from the need for force. “I have the worst gag reflex,” Siobhan confirms and Dyson nonchalantly holds up a funnel like he’s presenting a beer bong, which makes me snort ice tea through my nose.
“Let’s get this shit over with,” Siobhan orders and Bo sighs with weight and throws down the duct tape as Dyson passes over the liver shake. “I am so sorry,” she says to Siobhan with sincerity and the bean sidhe accepts the apology in the same vein. Positioning the funnel over Siobhan’s mouth, Bo force-feeds the liver shake until she begins to rock and roll in the chair. “Is she OK?” Bo worries. “Just give it a second,” Dyson reassures her as he steadies the chair, which I think is physical activity, but whatever.
Siobhan rears up and her eyes have turned all milky white while her voice takes on that double octave, wonky sound that is code for possessed. Dyson crouches before her and asks if this is Siobhan. “It is the voice of the ancient mourners, the grieving ones.” Dyson says there’s been a call to death. “We are bound to the old families. We cry for their loss.” Dyson asks for the name of the family she cried for and the bean sidhe reveals that Sean Cavanaugh will be not live past sundown. Siobhan starts to gag, and Dyson warns Bo to stand back for this part. As she does, the agent opens the door, wondering if they’re finished, just in time for Siobhan to projectile vomit liver shake all over her. “You’re not finished then,” the agent says, spitting out shake and backing out the door. Bo, who, hysterically, has been standing by holding the empty blender all this while, chokes out a laugh. “Super,” snits Siobhan, (there’s a lot of snitting in this episode!). “Now I won’t be able to get out of bed for a week.”
At The Dal, Kenzi and Cute Guy are getting along famously. They’re playing a game that looks like a cross between Yahtzee and Knucklebones with a pinch of Irish mysticism thrown in. Kenzi throws snake eyes and chortles “Lucky pig wins everything but the wedding gifts,” but Cute Guy stops her. Only the king gets the wedding gifts. Of course, then he rolls the king and gets all the gifts “It’s good to be king.” Yeah, I don’t get it either.
Kenzi decides he must be working some “dice voodoo” and what’s his power again now? He insists he’s just lucky and that he wouldn’t use his powers because it’s La Shoshain so he wouldn’t be using his powers anyway. “Yeah, but I just want to know with whom I have the pleasure,” Kenzi pushes. “So do you like corpses or have a detachable head or what?” Cute Guy: “Really, it’s not polite to ask.” Kenzi claims that she could die any minute, so he has to tell her, and Cute Guy finally admits to being good with money. “How good,” Kenzi asks as she flirtatiously plays with her hair. “I attract wealth,” Cute Guy admits. He also is good with numbers and keeps the books for some charities around town. This is less appealing to Kenzi and she wonders archly if he’s ever skimmed the books sometimes. Cute Guy immediately gets all offend: “Do I look like that kind of guy?!” When Kenzi offers that she was just joshing him, the stick up his ass gets tighter. “Joking about accounting fraud is like joking about a bomb on a plane.” Kenzi: “Issues.”
Dyson and Bo enter The Dal. “Cavanaugh,” Dyson announces. “Sean Cavanaugh,” Bo clarifies. A glass drops and all eyes turn to the 900-year-old man who starts laughing. “Not my time yet! Take that suckers!” and he flips the room the bird. Snort! “So, who’s Cavanaugh?” Kenzi wonders. A hand goes up and the camera pans down from Dyson’s furrowed and furry face to Cute Guy whose hand is in the air. “I am,” he confirms.
Dun, dun, DUN. (Not really. They practically broadcasted that one on a neon sign.)
Kenzi is trying to cheer Sean up. “I say you just hunker down with some pints and wait it out.” Sean says he knows the old stories. If a bean sidhe wails for you, you’re sunk. He decides all he can do it just die. Kenzi is having this crap. She insists he make a list of things he’s never done and that they go do ‘em. “You want me to make a bucket list?” he asks as though that’s the most absurd thing he’s ever heard. Hellz yeah! Kenzi wonders if he has any regrets. “I have one,” he admits.
Back in Tolkien’s parlor, Trick admits to Bo that he’s never known a bean sidhe to be wrong. Bo wonders if fae aren’t allowed to use their powers on Fae Day, then how is the bean sidhe able to wail. Trick clarifies that fae can’t use their powers voluntarily; a bean sidhe’s wail is complete reflex. “Every fae child knows that,” he snits (see?!) while pulling a scroll and a book out of a chest. He hides the book behind his back. Bo, gently: “You know, I’m trying to figure out if it’s the bean sidhe or just my complete ignorance that’s put you in such a foul mood.” Trick denies his pissy mood, claiming he only has a lot on his mind, and hands over the scroll, which holds the early writings on La Shoshain and the Blood King. “Should shut you up for a while.” Bo wonders what language it’s in. “Oh, also available in translation,” Trick says casually, like he’s a clerk at a used book store, and he hands over the book behind his back. Bo gives him an unfriendly look.
Bo heads out back into The Dal, but is cut off by Kenzi and Sean. Sean stumbles around verbally for a few seconds until Kenzi steps in for brevity’s sake. “Sean wants to reconcile with his asshole brother before he dies.” Sean explains that his brother Liam is dark fae and broke with the family 80 years ago and Sean hasn’t seen him since. Turns out Liam feeds on human greed. Sean goes off to get the address, and with a shrug and a flip “I’ll stay” Kenzi follows him, leaving Bo’s path clear to Dyson who is tossing back shots at the bar. “Be my back up?” she asks, a little too cutely. Dyson: “This is my one day off, from cops and fae, to drink in peace,” and he raises another shot to her before downing it. Gotta say, I wouldn’t mind seeing Dyson off his self-imposed leash, so to speak.
“Aw,” Bo mocks, not meanly. “Poor baby.” They stare at one another and the air crackles as usual between them while she waits for him to make up his mind to go with her as they both know he’s going to do. He wags a chiding finger at her. “You’re driving.” he finally says as he sucks down another shot before standing up. Bo laughs, knowing she has him. As though there was ever any doubt.
They exit an elevator into the chaos of an office imploding. Dyson expositions that Liam has been known for pyramid schemes in the past and it looks like his latest one just went bust. So the mortgage implosion that brought the U.S. economy to its needs was fae driven? I always thought those Wall Street guys were otherworldly.
Cue a protesting man being dragged down the hallway, screaming that he just wants his life savings back. A smarmy guy slides along behind him, sneering “don’t play the market if you don’t have the cojones.” Smarm Guy is, of course, Liam, who isn’t interested in reconciling with Sean, calling him a self-righteous ass. Bo says Sean claims everything is forgiven, and Liam gets more pissed, claiming it’s he who has to forgive Sean. It’s clear that Sean hasn’t told Bo the whole story and when Bo says it doesn’t matter because a bean sidhe wailed for Sean and he’ll be dead by sundown, Liam claims to look forward to reading Sean’s obit.
Back at The Dal, Sean is running on a stellar stream of good luck winning every game he plays. He calls for another round of the Irish jig, and Kenzi breaks “When does the lame-o-go-round stop?! I need to get off before I puke.” The whole idea of a bucket list, she tells him, is to do the things you wouldn’t do unless you were dying. Sean: “Well, that waitress over there? I always kind of fancied her.” Kenzi: “Fancied. Oh my god.” She sends him off to hit on the waitress. “Go get her tiger. I wanna see some tongue; I wanna see some booty action. Go, go!” He strikes out epically, but is glad he tried it, finally getting into the swing of bucket lists. “You’re very odd and special,” he tells Kenzi. Dude, WE KNOW. “Speaking of romance, I’ve never kissed a human…” Kenzi punches his arm and calls him a perv. It’s sweet, actually.
Bo and Dyson enter and confront Sean. He’s amazed to hear Liam is still holding a grudge. Bo wants the whole story and he says it was right at the time of Liam’s Gathering, the coming of age ceremony where you chose light or dark. “Hey, you had one of those,” Kenzi reminds Bo.” “Remember Conan the Barbarian?” Sean says that was the old ways. “These days it’s more like a fae bar mitzvah.” Bo: “Huh. Maybe if I’d actually chosen a side I could’ve scored some gifts.”
Everyone in Sean’s family always chooses the light side, and though Liam was a screw up, no one expected him to be any different. To settle him down, their father had them help out at the office, which is when $30,000 went missing from the safe and Sean assumes Liam took it and went and called the police on him. Kenzi: “Oh, dick move, man!”
Sean expected Liam to come clean, but instead, as soon as he was bailed out, Liam ran away and went full on dark fae. No one’s talked to him since except their mother, who died recently. Sean doesn’t care what allegiance his brother swears, he just wants Liam to know he loves him before Sean dies. Kenzi tries to buck him up by saying maybe he won’t die. “I mean, what’s this bean sidhe’s batting average?” No sooner are the words out of her mouth than the old chandelier above their heads starts to sway and creek and the three of them barely scrambled back in time to avoid being pinned underneath it as it falls. Bo vows to bring Sean his brother whatever it takes.
Kenzi and Sean watch as Trick has the broken chandelier removed. Sean whines that he’s done for, that it’s only a matter of time before the bean sidhe’s prediction comes true. Kenzi: “Well maybe it is but you still have some gonzo living to do before then and I’m not letting you do it in some stuffy pub!” and she drags him out of The Dal.
Cut to Kenzi and Sean breaking into a Mercedes convertible. Sean admits he’s having fun but worries that it’s illegal. Kenzi wonders what the law can do to him at this point and he sees her point. She teaches him how to hot wire the car and he wonders if this is how he dies, in a fiery, mangled crash. Dude is a serious wet blanket. “It is the fiery, mangled potential that gives it the thrill!” Kenzi claims and tells him to give it some gas.
Downtown in the succmobile, Bo and Dyson sit on stakeout, Dyson sipping periodically from his flask and watching Bo as she watches the entrance to Liam’s office, waiting for him to emerge. Dyson is clearly having some Deep Thoughts, helped, no doubt, from whatever is in the flask. “Bo, I wanna –” he begins, but she interrupts him. “I know, I know. Staking out some creepy guy is not your ideal La Shoshain.” He looks out his window. “Nowhere else I’d rather be,” he says with a small smile and no irony. Awww. Bo scoffs, “yeah, right,” but he’s serious. He turns back to her and tries again. “Bo, I want you to know, I do what I can to protect you.” She realizes he’s not kidding and responds immediately with, “I know. I trust you without a second thought.” He nods and considers that for a minute, then seems to decide that it’s enough for the moment, raising the flask to her in acknowledgement as he goes back to drinking and staring out the window. Bo rolls her eyes. “Mister Sparkly-Conversation, however, you are not.” She picks up Trick’s book and starts to read.
Kenzi and Sean pull up in front of a mansion. This is Sean’s family home and they go in and out the back onto a terrace that looks out on a yard that would rival the Gardens of Versailles for size where Sean’s father is taking afternoon tea. Dad wonders if they’d schedule an appointment, and Sean says no, I wanted to see you because a bean sidhe wailed for me. Dad takes this news in stride: “You sure?” Pretty sure there, oh frigid one. He wants Sean to make sure his affairs are in order and Sean goes all good son on his dad, wondering why he tried so hard to gain Dad’s respect. “A friend of mine has shown me that a dead guy gets to go a little crazy and that’s what I’m gonna do with the rest of my time.” Sean stalks off, but Kenzi remains behind, picking up Dad’s newspaper. Dad insists he cares, of course, and that Sean and Liam have always been overemotional, traits they got from their mother. He snatches the paper from Kenzi’s hands, claiming he’d like to get back to what he was doing. “Betting on the fights?” Kenzi asks, knowingly and proceeds to give Dad some pointers before sashaying after Sean.
Back in the succmobile, Bo is, erm, sucking up all the information on Fae Day from Trick’s book. “Did you know the Blood King personally wrote the rules that govern fae society?” she asks Dyson, which I’m guessing is like asking American teenagers if they know that the pilgrims landed at Plymouth Rock. Though given the state of American education today, and the evidence of Jay Leno’s Jaywalking segments, I’m guessing that knowledge might yet escape them. She goes on to share how during World War I, fae soldiers put down their weapons to secretly celebrate La Shoshain together, which is a clever inversion of the actual WWI Christmas story. “Heartwarming, isn’t it,” Dyson quips with that waggle of his eyebrows that tends warm places far south of my heart.
Sorry, I digress.
A text from Kenzi tells Bo she and Sean are headed home to Hilton Hovel, just as Liam finally exits the building. “You coming?” she asks Dyson. “I think you’re good,” he drawls and settles back to watch the show. As Liam approaches a dark orange Ferrari, Bo sidles up complimented the hideous thing (it should be a crime to color such a machine that heinously.) He acts like the asshole he is until Bo turns the succubus juice on him. “Hey, let’s do some blow and get craazzzyy,” duped up Liam suggests. Bo tries to make him come with her to see Sean, but Liam doesn’t want to watch his brother die and when Bo suggests that maybe the bean sidhe was wrong and Sean won’t die, Liam says he hopes not because he sure paid a lot to have his brother killed. Shocked, Bo releases him, and Dyson’s eyes narrow as he watches, too far away to hear what’s being said. Confused, Liam suggests they forget about Sean, and Bo puts him under again demanding to know why he put a hit on his brother and Liam confesses his ture feelings on the matter: “All I do is destroy lives. I’m a worthless, piece of shit monster all because I chose the dark over the light. Because of Sean.” Bo says that was 80 years ago. Turns out, Liam’s been waiting for his mother to die to extract revenge on Sean without breaking her heart and Bo finally asks the million dollar question: “What did you send after your brother?”
Cut to Kenzi and Sean eating lunch at Hilton Hovel and checking things off Sean’s bucket list. “Overdose on grease!” Kenzi exclaims proudly. “That’s actually on my list.” Ha. As they discuss the lack of time to go skydiving, a fist busts through the front door. They run for the back door, but that is immediately knocked down too, so they scramble through Hilton Hovel until they wind up wedged into a corner with Kenzi brandishing a broom. Kinda surprised she could find it, actually. Sean identifies their attackers as goblins who don’t respect any fae or human rules, but do like pain. “We’re not going to die quickly,” he warns Kenzi. “We’re not going to die at all,” she swears. Sean gallantly steps in front of her, vowing to give himself up so she doesn’t get hurt. Behind them, the goblin starts knocking through the wall and Kenzi and Sean scuttle in front of the flat screen, which is paused on “loading”. Sean goes on to say he can’t escape the bean sidhe’s wail, but he isn’t going to allow it to harm someone as wonderful as Kenzi. “Dickhead,” Kenzi gasps and goes on to vow that she doesn’t believe in fate. “You make your own future. You fight for it!” Sean rips the broom from her hands and says there’s no escaping the bean sidhe’s wail. In desperation, Kenzi leans over and kisses him. “We can,” she says firmly. She pulls back and the goblin is right there between them.
Bo and Dyson hurry into Hilton Hovel and before Kenzi can cry out, “Bo! There’s a –” the goblin is right there next to them. He does something to Dyson before either of them can react, punches him in the throat I think, and Dyson goes down, gasping. Immediately, the goblin attacks Bo and it’s super fast, phasing in and out of the room without warning to swipe at Bo with a knife. She feints and dodges while Dyson tries and fails to get to his feet, his eyes streaming. The goblin reappears behind Bo, kicking her in the back so she hits the ground hard, scrambling back on her hands and heels. The goblin goes in for the killing blow as Dyson whips out his – gun, and shoots it in the back. Honestly, the sound of the gun shocks me. Already, I’m so accustomed to everyone on this show using blades and/or their powers I forgot Dyson’s gun actually fires (not like that!).
Bo scrambles over to support Dyson as he collapses again. “I thought you weren’t allowed to use violence today,” she says, frantically checking him out. “Only to protect a life,” he clarifies. “Complicated set of rules,” Bo jokes baldy, cradling his face. Dyson proves the rule again by shooting the stirring goblin one last time and his expression -stay down this time asshole –is just –oh my. Dyson: “Actually, it’s pretty intuitive.” Yeah, as in the whole, protect your mate at all costs sort of wolf thing. Satisfied the goblin is dead this time, he turns into Bo’s hands and they do that forehead touching thing that I almost find more intimate than when they’re in a full on clinch.
Bo downloads Sean about how his brother Liam put a hit out on him. Naturally, Sean is upset and wants to see Liam right away. Kenzi pulls him away to calm down while Bo and Dyson examine the dead goblin. “I bet the goblin disposal agency is closed today,” Bo snarks. Dyson tells her that they do this by the book, reporting it to The Ash who will send in a cleanup crew and lodge a complaint with The Morrigan because “once the goblins take on a hit, they do not stop until they kill their mark.” Bo wonders if The Morrigan will intervene and Dyson points out that Liam made an unsanctioned hit against the light on the holiest of fae days. Dude’s in deep shit all around. Kenzi comes back in with the unwelcomed news that they’d better hurry as Sean has gone off after his brother with Bo’s crossbow.
Sure enough, Sean’s at Liam’s office, shooting crossbow bolts at his brother who has the douchey balls to claim La Shoshain protects him. “At least I went through an intermediary.” But before Sean can go through with it, Bo, Dyson, and Kenzi show up and Bo invokes Agallamh, the rule by which any fae can force warring parties to sit down for peace talks and it has to be obeyed. The brothers gape at her, aghast, while behind her, Dyson closes his eyes and drops his head, shaking it wearily. Bo doesn’t understand what is wrong with everyone, did she get it wrong? “I read it in Trick’s book! I can get the book.”
I like the rhythm of this next bit. “We know what it means,” Dyson says, wearily. Liam: “No one has invoked Agallamh in like –” Sean: “Forever.” Dyson: “Wanna know why?” Bo: “Probably not.” Dyson: “Because the person who calls for the talks forfeits her life if they talks fail.”
Whoops. “But it’s La Shoshain,” Bo points out desperately. “It’s not violence,” Dyson explains. “It’s sacrifice.” See? This is what comes from only reading the crib notes. Bo: “Really should’ve skipped to the end, huh.”
This is one of the (many) things I like about this show. As a newbie to the fae world, Bo keeps tripping over the rules that fae society has lived and breathed for so long. Her innocence in these matters brings to glaring light how archaic so many of these old traditions are, and the damage they’ve done to the fae along the way. Like the process for getting a bean sidhe to give up her information. That was pretty brutal, and Siobhan hated it, but a part of her clearly looks on it as the Way Things Are, while to Bo, it was horrible.
Back at The Dal, Trick is yelling at Bo, really incensed. “Invoking Agallamh is not a game! It’s the most sacred ceremony on the most sacred day. It’s the dissolution of all the Blood King stood for, all he achieved, and it will probably end in your death!” Bo speaks calmly, saying that it’s just that reason why she needs Trick to help her do it right. This appeases Trick and he immediately agrees. Moving upstairs, Bo draws the requisite circles around Sean and Liam on the floor with what I’m guessing is the standard magic powder for the Agallamh. Kinda looks like glitter to me. A few fae have lingered at The Dal and fill in behind the ceremony. Kenzi stands at Bo’s side guarding a book that is almost as big as she is. Liam drinks from a ceremonial goblet and then passes it to Sean who drinks too. Bo takes a lit candle from Trick and carefully bends down to light the magic powder surrounding the brothers. Instantly a ring of flame surrounds them.
Behind each brother, a small circle has been drawn, interlocking with the large one. Bo stands in the one behind Liam and by her careful movements, it’s clear that she cannot step outside her own circle. Bo calls the Agallamh opened and that it shall not be closed except by sacrifice. Trick warns Bo not to dawdle; Sean’s death is supposed to happen by sundown and if he dies before the Agallamh is closed, then Bo’s life will be forfeit too. Bo wonders who kills her, and, reading the book, Kenzi posits that Bo needs to ask for a volunteer. Following the script in the book, Bo asks if there’s one in the community who will step forward to be The Claymore. “I’ll be your claymore,” Dyson intones with all solemnity of the occasion as he steps forward and takes his place in the empty circle. Bo: “Thanks. I think.”
Sean admits to turning Liam in for stealing the money, claiming he was a stupid kid who thought he was doing the right thing. Should he be killed for that? Liam says for falsely accusing him and ruining his life? Lemmme think – hellz yeah! They start yelling directly at each other until Bo out shouts them, quoting from the book that “thou shalt not address the interlocutor directly. You speak to me, not him!” Liam swears he didn’t take the money and Sean swears he did that it was totally in his nature. This sets Liam off about how Sean is always so judgmental and they’re yelling again. Bo yells that that’s enough and Liam agrees. “Get your gun out,” he tells Dyson. “I’ve fulfilled my obligation to the Agallamh.” He double claps his hands and shazam! a goblin starts circling them. “First the claymore kills you,” Liam says to Bo. “And then the goblin takes care of my brother.”
Trick objects: “There will be no violence in my house,” he grits out. Liam says they’ll take it outside then and calls that it be put to the community, but before Bo can do that, Kenzi stops her. She’s found something in the great big book, and whispers to Bo that she has a plan and Bo should stall for time. Haltingly, Bo calls for a recess, “I believe we’re allowed one every four hours,” and Dyson and others second the motion. Everyone is temporarily released from their respective circles, but as Trick moves behind Dyson, wolf boy stops him. “You could save her,” he reminds Trick in a low (sigh) voice. He walks away and Dyson eyes Bo with concern as she breathes deep and tries to keep her shit together in the face of near certain death. Again.
Kenzi pulls the succmobile in front of Sean’s family mansion and runs through to the back terrace. In Tolkien’s parlor, Trick carefully unwraps the manicure kit Kenzi found in Food for Thought. He looks at it with trepidation as Dyson ducks into the parlor to tell him it’s time. Back in the bar, Liam is demanding that they “do this.” Everyone takes their place and Bo reluctantly calls the Agallamh back to order and Liam demands that his petition for closure stand. She asks for a second, and some random lady finally raises her hand. Bo: “Gee, thanks.” With no outs left on the board, the goblin assassin materializes behind Sean as Bo starts to slowly wrap things up as though she’s riffing at The Copa. “Under the rules of the ritual of the sacred Agallamh on this sacred La Shoshain and with due reverence to the Blood King. I mean there was a fine king, am I right?” Liam demands closure and it looks like Bo has finally talked herself to the point of no return and puts the motion of closure to the community just as Kenzi runs in with Sean and Liam’s father in tow. Dad submits himself to the Agallamh grousing that he doesn’t really know why he’s there. Bo swears him into the inner circle and accuses him of stealing the money from his own safe 80 years ago. The goblin continues to circle around the –um –circles. Bo reminds Dad that lying in the inner circle is punishable by death, and Dad admits that he has vices he keeps under control. Kenzi spells it out for everyone: Daddy dear has gambling debts and uses investor money to cover his loses, moving cash around so no one takes notice. “Liam here is a real chip off the old block, Pops!”
The boys confront their father who tries to claim that neither son should’ve been near the office that night and that he couldn’t confess because their mother would’ve left him. “You put your own health and well being over your sons’,” Bo accuses.
Sean offers recompense for assuming his brother’s guilt and hands over the family pendant, the symbol of the birthright, to Liam who will now inherit the family holdings when their father dies. ”With my sacrifice, I move for peace.” Liam considers the pendant in his hand, and then offers to repay what he can to the people he defrauded if their father moves their mother’s grave to neutral ground so Liam can visit it. Their father agrees and Liam calls off the hit on Sean. “Then we have a peace,” Bo acknowledges. “I move for closure,” and this time she’s glad to do it. “I second the motion,” Dyson immediately calls out, equally pleased and clearly proud of her, and they do that hot you’re -always-there-for-me-yes-I-am-so-are-you-for-me look thing. Kenzi hugs Sean who thanks her for not giving up on him.
Sean, Liam, Bo, Dyson and Kenzi are walking down an alley to Liam’s car. Kenzi calls Bo on her success: “Sundown, Bo. You saved him and beat the bean sidhe!” Bo says it was more of a 50/50 effort. Kenzi decides if she’s being honest, it was really more like a 30/70 effort as all Bo had to do was read from a book. Bo: “Hey, who put her life on the line?” Kenzi: “Hey, who didn’t know she was putting her life on the line?”
Sean and Liam discuss what to do with their father while Dyson poses against the wall behind them, watching all. Liam offers his hand “Good peace,” and Sean takes it “Long peace,” and pulls his brother in for a hug. Bo has sidled up next to Dyson by now, drawn like metal to a magnet, and Kenzi fondly smacks her on the arm. “Hey, does this mean we’re all cozy with the fae again?” Bo with a telling glance at Dyson: “Well, let’s just say I haven’t completely written them all off.” Dyson, dryly: “Well, thank you very much.”
Sean gives Liam some shit about his butt ugly sports car and just as they’re behaving like brothers again, here comes Protesting Guy from Liam’s office all “where’s my money, Cavanaugh?!” and wielding a gun, which he shoots at Liam, only Sean instinctively shields his brother and takes the bullets in his back instead. Too late, Dyson knocks the gun from the guy’s hand, throwing him against the alley wall and he does it so effortless, it’s laughable, like he’s merely batting a fly. He barely even looks at the guy, keeping his gaze locked on Bo and what’s happening with the Cavanaugh boys. As Sean starts to die, he asks a stunned Liam if they’re even now. Kenzi begs Sean to hold on but with one last “I told you so,” he dies.
At Hilton Hovel, Kenzi sits on the couch, fiddling with her super kewl gloves. Bo asks how she’s doing and Kenzi says cool, but kind of restless. “Maybe we can find some death metal to thrash out to or something.” She plays with the dice cup from the game she played earlier with Sean, back before they knew he was marked for death. She rolls snakes eyes and laughs moistly. “Lucky pig wins everything but the wedding gifts.” She looks at the dice and Bo cuddles her close as Kenzi starts to cry.
Back at Tolkien’s parlor, Dyson and Trick are having a snifter together. “Bo didn’t crumble,” Dyson points out proudly. “Even in the face of death, she held it together.” Trick: “Would you have killed her?” Dyson: “Would you have used your blood to save her?” They both know each other’s answer.
“She’s strong,” Dyson insists. “She deserves to know more.” But Trick isn’t ready. Dyson insists that Bo is. “You gotta start believing in her, Trick. She could amount to something.” What’s this “could”? To my mind, she already has.
“For her sake, I hope not,” Trick asserts. “[Persons] who rise to prominence tend to bring a great deal of pain upon ourselves.” Dyson acknowledges this gravely and raises his brandy glass in a toast. “To the Blood King…and all that you’ve sacrificed.” Trick sniffs. “Please don’t ever call me that,” he implores with a sad smile. Dyson smiles and they clink glasses. Chin, chin.
Ah, so the Trickster himself is the Blood King. Interesting….
New Fae Terms:
La Shoshain: n. the fae high holy day that recognizes the sacrifice of the Blood King. No fae may use their powers, feed off humans, or cause violence. Commonly known as Fae Day, though don’t call it that in the presence of an elder; it pisses them off.
—Origin: Unknown. May predate the written word, though some of the laws regarding the high holy day are in print and translation.
Agallamh: n. a parlay. The rule by which any fae can force warring parties to sit down for peace talks and it has to be obeyed. Can only be called on La Shoshain. If peace is not achieved, the person who called for the Agallamh forfeits his/her own life as sacrifice. Involves ignitable pixie dust and a very large, very old book of the rules of order.
—Origin: Celtic Irish
Goblin: n. an assassin for hire. Goblins feed off pain and so tend not to kill quickly. They adhere to neither human nor fae law, which makes them the prime choice for carrying out a hit on a holy day. They are very quick and can phase in and out of a space without being seen until they want to be. Ugly creatures, they have an extended bottom jaw from which sticks out small tusks.
Bean sidhe: n. (pron: ban-she) A female spirit, the bean sidhe wails to herald the coming death of one of the members of the noble families. Force-feeding iron to a bean sidhe can bring the spirit forth and compel it to reveal the name of the person for whom they wail. Beware the resultant projectile vomiting.
—Origin: Celtic Irish
The Noble Families: n. there are ten total families of noble blood, five human and five fae.
—Origin: Could be anyone these days, really. Have you seen how those nobles get around?
Best Lines of the Night: Another Hale-free week means another episode lean on the memorable quotes
Kenzi: “Sweet cheese muffins. Noble blood, huh? Nice gig.”
Siobhan: “All I wanted was to play the gig, get paid, get wasted… get laid.”
Bo: “Back away with the liver shake.”
Kenzi: “It is the fiery, mangled potential that gives it the thrill!”
Bo (to Dyson): “Mister Sparkly-Conversation, however, you are not.”
Next week: Episode 10: The Mourning After
Kiersten Hallie Krum writes smart, sharp & sexy romantic suspense. Find her snarking her way across social media as @kierstenkrum and on her web site and blog at www.kierstenkrum.com.