I am shrunken to the size of a grain of wheat. Blown hither and yon by a hot summer breeze over the hill of Temhair, I finally alight on King Cormac's royal brooch. Drawn into the maze-like pattern, I get lost in the interwoven knotwprk. Around and around I go, chased by the demon horse Amadán. I smell rain. A storm is coming. Suddenly a bolt of skyfire strikes! Flames erupt everywhere. The Ard Righ's brooch melts down to molten metal. All the gems float away. I cling to Amadán to keep from drowning in the river of gold.

A whiff of smoke rouses me from the dream. Something cool eases my burning brow. There's the touch of a gentle hand. Moss the Healer smiles.

"You had a narrow escape," she says, "but you are not badly hurt, just a few bruised ribs and some nasty scratches down your back. Here, drink, it will soothe your throat."

"Something is burning!" I gasp. "And my horse? A stallion, pure black, has anyone seen him?"

Moss gives me a stern look and puts the cup to my lips. "First, drink. Then I'll tell you about the fire. They said it was started by lightning. Some swear it was the great spear of Lugh himself came down from the sky and sparked the blaze. That cursed maze! Better now that it's burned to the ground, but too bad for King Cormac's wheat field. This has been such a dry summer..."

Her voice fades away as I drink deeply and drift back to the fading dream once more. After draining the cup, I hand it back to Moss.

"Your horse is peacefully grazing in the pasture behind the tent," she reassures me. "Oh, and one of King Cormac's messengers brought this for you. A prize for completing the maze!"

She slips a golden torc into my hands.

Moss is blessed with a gift for doctoring. It only stings a little when she rubs salve on the scratches. The soreness in my ribs is soothed with a steaming pack of pungent herbs. By the time the poultice has cooled, I feel strong enough to leave the tent. When I whistle for Amadán, he is here before I draw my next breath. His rare mood mellows even more when the healer brings him an apple, his favorite treat.

Before we leave the tent, I bow gratefully to Moss. "When we return to Inver Colpa, I will make sure that you are never without venison or wood for your fire. Go raibh míle maith agat!"