Relieved that my liege and his queen are safely across the bridge, I take my leave and join the twins on the boundary lands between Dunscaith and Caol Loch Aillse. Our purpose is a twofold hunt for Aoife and for quail for tonight's feast. I doubt the Brude and her Fellowship will be up to much celebrating after our long sea voyage, but the laws of hospitality demand a grand feis befitting their status, and the food, shelter and warm attire will be a welcome respite. The festivities will be a rare treat for the war school as well. While Aoife is nowhere in sight, the thickets are teaming with quail ready for the taking. Busily netting the plump fowl, we fail to notice the fae war queen's arrival. I am closest to her and see her first. I have been warned time and again that life is but a game to Aoife Aosán. Only when her shadow falls across mine and an icy chill creeps up my spine does the warning take its full meaning. Stilling my chattering mind, I stand gaping at her, hungrily drinking in her beauty. Sky-blue eyes travel up her long, curvaceous body and fall into two enchanting starlit pools. I struggle hard against the tide of ill luck that has me in tow, but cannot regain my footing or my senses. "Come away with me, fair warrior," the sweet-spoken amazon hums in my gullible ears. "I will make you a greater champion than any Scathach and her ilk have ever known." "An irresistable promise!" I say with a shake of my golden hair and grin at the formidable warrior like a love-sick pup. Aoife waves for me to follow her into her darkling shadow realm. "I could love her," I say to no one in particular and like a bee to the blossom, helplessly trail my new mistress to my doom. *** aosán = sídhe of ill intent