I study with interest the rescue of Niamh by valiant Cinaedh Bearslayer and wonder what has become of Gorma. Convinced Naimh could have saved herself, I hold my tongue and laugh instead. Soon laughter turns to bitter bile in the back of my throat as I watch another brave soul plunge into the inky depths of Ob Gauscavaig. Though I have learned to steel myself against the fate of the many heroes who fail to cross the Bridge of Leaping, my heart laments each loss. Still, the war school's first test is not nearly as cruel as it must seem to those who are not seeking instruction from the most highly trained warriors of Cleas in the world. But how can I explain to the Brude and her new consort, who waves his fists in fury, or to the sea-tossed Fellowship, who shiver around their meagre campfire, that there are worse fates? Their arrival heralds a demand I have never had to meet: still the bridge and allow outsiders to cross untested. Not an unreasonable request considering I swore allegiance to Verica and offered her refuge on my isle. The wisdom of my beloved Cèudach rings in my ears: We can hardly instruct the entire fellowship in how to perform the Salmon Leap. Behind his gently mocking words burns unspoken compassion for our guests. His is a sentiment I can ill afford as leader of the Deirfiúrachas Sgáith, many of whom would consider it unwise to allow anyone entrance who did not successfully leap across the bridge. It's simply not done. Caught on the branches of a dilemma, I ponder my choices. Then I feel it. A fleeting disturbance hid deep within the shadows that signals Aoife's presence. She undoubtedly seeks a new student to destroy. Wraithlike she clutches unsuspecting aspirants in her bloody talons and drags them into the wilds of Caol Loch Aillse. There she promises to make them heroes of legend, then drives them mad by bombarding their minds with secrets best revealed in good season. I have seen these hollow-eyed husks with my own eyes. They wander aimlessly among the thickets of great briars in Glen Shiel. I'd rather have my brains dashed out on the rocks below than become one of her crazed castoffs. Shuddering at the ominous spectres haunting my memories, I know now what I must do: protect the Brude and her people from Aoife Aosán, my neach sídhe cousin of ill intent. "Enough testing!" I shout into the silence, which has the desired effect of immediately snapping all around me to attention. "The Brude and her Ard Draoí are our honoured guests, not an ábhar - the students among her Fellowship can test their mettle later. For now we must adhere to the laws of hospitality. Nefertu, prepare Màrrach Mòr for a grand feast. Ciannait, take Cinaedh and Niamh to the student quarters. Caoilainn! Ailbhe! Warn the Deirfiúrachas to be on guard. Aoife lurks nearby. Cèudach, accompany me across the bridge. We must bring our friends to safety at once!"