Emery didn't recall losing consciousness; maybe it only lasted a moment, or perhaps it was longer, but she was aware, suddenly, of a familiar voice, a light behind her closed eyelids, a brush at her throat, and her inability to move or speak.

"She wouldn't allow me to touch her." That voice was low, worried.

"Do not be distressed, Lord. She's obstinate as you." The respondent paused, then nervously added, "My apologies, Lord. Please—I've grown too accustomed to the freedom with which she allows me to speak to her. I forget myself."

"Just help her."

"Yes, yes. Of course."

There was a burning sensation along her neck, where Forgall had held the dagger. Emery moaned in discomfort, moved her head slightly to avoid the pain.

"If you hurt her—"

"Never, Lord!"

The fire ended as quickly as it had begun, and Emery's mind clouded, the last thing she heard, "Do not make me wait long."

When she woke fully, Emery found herself on the small sofa in her mother's she-shed. Or, at least, the woman she'd thought had been her mother's she-shed. The shed door was open, and beyond it, soft rain still fell, though day had dawned. Sitting up, Emery felt her head swim and had to close her eyes to stave off the momentary dizziness that consumed her. A hand went to her neck where the cut had been and felt nothing but a minor ridge of skin, as if the wound had already closed and scarred. It didn't hurt anymore, either. The voices she'd heard talking, they'd been Cullen's, for sure, and—

"Cat!" Emery jumped up as the druid entered the small structure, hugging him in spite of his wet, wizardy attire.

"Ah! Emery!" he cried, a wide, sincere smile creasing his pointed chin. "You've wakened, and I wager you're feeling well?"

The girl nodded. "I feel totally normal. You healed me?"

Cathbad lowered himself into the chair next to the sofa, and Emery sat back down. "Forgall's blade went deeper than I think you knew. You risked your life refusing my Lord's aid."

Feeling somewhat scolded and a little foolish, Emery frowned. "I'm glad you showed up, then." She wanted to change the subject. "But where were you? Where'd you go—oh! And Tess! Where's Tess? Oh my God, Cat! Charlie! That woman—"

"Lady! Calm yourself! Such vigor will make you ill after your ordeal. I can tell you what I know and no more. Please, sit." The druid took hold of a red amulet around his neck, played absently with it. "I will first assuage your worries for your friends. Lady Tess . . . she traveled with me, when I returned the warriors."

"What happened to you that night? Everything was so confusing, and there was a horse—"

Cathbad held up his hands as if to stop her. "It was a pooka, Emery, that rescued you. It was sent by my Lord Cuchulain, who learned of your need but could not yet return to you. Hold! I will explain. A pooka is a mischievous creature; no unworthy person can control its whims let alone ride it. But this one owed some sort of favor to my Lord and agreed to watch over you and report back to him if need be. I myself had no idea of its existence until speaking with him last night." Here, the druid rolled his eyes in exasperation, muttering, "His lack of communication reveals a distrust in my capabilities." Cathbad looked rather sorry for himself for a moment, so much so that Emery almost tried to comfort him, but then he came to and furthered his explanation. "In any case, the pooka is a notorious shapeshifter. He presented as a horse that night, to save you, to outrun Evil."

Emery was confused. "But I thought you said only something pure could defeat Evil."

"Yes, which is why the Lady Tess was unaffected, irreproachable as she is . . ." The man trailed into a sort of reverie, then caught Emery's raised eyebrows and reddened considerably. "Ah, well. Yes. Your intention to save us by leading Evil away—that was pure, arguably. And my Lord Cuchulain's desire to save you . . . I believe that was pure, as well. Selfless acts ward off evil of many kinds."

"And so, what, the warriors just got better and . . . and you and Tess, everything was fine? You'd thought you might try to hurt--"

"Everything was well. She is well. It's all . . . well."

His hedging was suspicious. "You aren't telling me something."

"I need not tell you everything. Lady Tess is well. She is, at present, waiting for you."

Emery's eyes widened. "She's here? Let me talk to her! Does she know about her brother?"

"No, no. She is waiting for you . . . at the portal." Cathbad studied his hands for a moment, then looked up at her and added, "On the other side of it. Your reaction is expected!" He held out his hands to stop Emery from jumping up. "I beg of you not to over-exert yourself!" He sighed as she sat back down. "The Lady Tess was going to return to her family, but when she heard her brother was missing, she made the choice to stay with me, until she finds him. Yes--to answer you, Emery, your other friend, the young man, he has vanished, and I fear the witch Carman has taken him."

It was what Emery had feared. "But how? She was dead! I saw her with the sword--"

"No, Carman is far too cunning for most mortal weaponry. Even my Lord Cuchulain knew it when he trapped her, but he had to save Gáe Bulg for the more formidable foe. We'd thought Carman long returned to her native land, but it is evident, now, that she was in league with your father. The brothers--Dark, Death, and Evil--they are her sons."

"So she set them after me?"

"I'm not sure she did, curiously. She seemed unable to control her sons. I worry they might have been acting under another's guidance. I can assure you, Lady, that I will strive to discover the meaning behind it, ere they mount a fresh attack. This will be my task, however long it proves. In any case, I fear for your male friend. Why Carman took him, I cannot say, but she has no doubt brought him to her home. She would not stay in this hostile place without Forgall. We shall work to find him, as well, and as for Lady Tess, she will be there, to help you as you . . . adjust."

Emery didn't quite know how to respond. She felt sick to her stomach. "What if I don't want Tess to be there, either? You can't take her from her family like that."

Cathbad avoided eye contact, and Emery wondered at it. "I have forced no fiat on the Lady Tess." Then he perked up and looked back to her. "But Emery, your curse is at its end! He who imparted it is dead. You should wish to return!"

"Then why don't I remember anything?" Emery cried, emotion rising at the thought of "returning" with Cullen. "I can't go--I--I don't want to go. I can't--I--"

The druid put a hand on one of hers, leaning forward, the cap on his head sliding a bit as he did so. "Do not fear, Emery," he soothed, his gray eyes twinkling. "Everything is quite different, there, but you will have friends and help."

"It's not that," Emery insisted, pulling her hand away. She stared out the door, into the rain. How could she go with Cullen? He clearly had expectations of her, of some relationship they shared--but she remembered nothing, and she feared his violence and his intensity. Even more than that, she feared the small and confusing attraction she did undeniably have toward him, what it could mean or where it could lead. She was seventeen! She was in no place to feel what he wanted her to feel for him. She just wanted things to be easy and carefree. She wanted butterflies at school dances and doodled hearts around last names in notebooks, gossip about crushes and first kisses with cute boys and hand holding and flirty texts and . . . and not whatever he intended.

But she couldn't say that to Cathbad, though it was clear to her now that she could never return to the life she'd lived before all of this. "What about my sisters?" she asked, recalling Deirdre and Neve.

"Deirdre left to visit the elder this morning, as Forgall had arranged. Their world will re-form to meet their lives. In fact, Deirdre has already begun to forget you."

"But I'm not even gone, yet!"

"The magic that binds you to this place fades, even as its architects fade."

Emery fought back tears, turning away from the druid. "Then you've all made it impossible for me to stay. You've taken away everything I thought I had—everyone I thought I cared about."

Cathbad's response took a moment, but it was accompanied by a placid smile when it came. "Not everyone. Your Tess will be there, and Lir (though I can't promise you will see him much, as Gods do as they will). You will never be alone, I can assure you."

Whether or not he could promise her that, she didn't know, but she did know that staying in a world that had forgotten her would be more lonely than going to a world she'd forgotten.

Less than an hour later, in Emery's no-longer backyard outside her no-longer home, Cathbad placed an arm around the girl's shoulders and, drawing his cloak about the two of them, whisked them back to the woods. Emery had taken that less-than-an-hour to shower and change; she'd taken her backpack, dumped its contents, and refilled it with a small amount of clothing and amenities she thought might be useful. She'd searched the house for Tara but hadn't been able to find the dog, much to her sorrow. And even as she'd finished packing and begun to head out, the personal items in her bedroom, the photographs and notes and cards and mementos, had begun to disappear.

Unable to watch her world vanish, she'd hurried to Cathbad, and he'd taken them back to where it had all apparently begun.

The woods were gray-lit; the rain still fell softly, though Emery at least wore a hooded jacket, now. Their immediate landing was not quite near enough to the portal but was instead in the clearing where Emery and Charlie had been accosted by Forgall and the witch. In fact, the moment the druid pulled back his cloak, Emery saw her former-father's body mere yards away, looking as if it'd been torn apart by wild animals.

"Do not look!" Cathbad cried, raising an arm to shield her. "Damned transportation spells! So fickle."

Emery turned away in disgust, afraid she might retch if she didn't.

"Gáe Bulg is a frightful weapon," Cathbad went on, guiding her away from the body and through the woods. "No target it hits can survive to tell of it. It enters the body through a single wound but immediately divides into thirty keen barbs that travel throughout the limbs and up into the brain. You can understand, then, why Scáthach would've not parted with it on easy terms."

"But--they would be inside--"

"No," Cathbad said hastily. "The barbs must be removed, if one wishes the weapon to be used again. Which brings me to a point, Emery . . . do not be affrighted when you see the state of Lord Cuchulain. He's done only what he must."

Emery didn't like the sound of the druid's words, but what could she do? She instinctively drew closer to him the farther they walked. Her heart began to race, and their conversation diminished as her mind turned toward what was to come. When Cathbad told her they were near, Emery was unsure she could even continue walking, but the man linked his arm in hers, and the simple action gave her the ability to go on, if not the courage.

As they neared the portal, Emery heard it before she saw it. The sound was as a pool of water turning gently, coupled with faint, intermittent crackles of static. Where exactly they were in the woods, Emery hadn't enough sense of direction to determine, but the trees had thickened considerably, and the portal itself was beneath an overhang of earth, which appeared to have been ripped up by a massive falling tree. Roots hung down from the edge of the overhang, shrouding the portal within the enclave in a reasonable amount of secrecy.

Cullen stood near the base of the overturned tree, watching, no doubt waiting for their arrival. He made no movement when he saw them; neither his position nor his expression changed. Emery felt her stomach sink at the sight of him, wouldn't meet his eye, and tightened her grip on Cathbad's arm. She hoped he couldn't quite see her face beneath the hood of her jacket.

But then Emery caught a glimpse of a small black animal moving about impatiently at Cullen's feet, and she released Cathbad's arm. "Tara!" she called out to the glossy-furred creature, crouching down as he trotted to her and nuzzled against her leg. Emery didn't notice the tremor that flitted across Cullen's features; she was not looking at him at all. Instead, she marveled for the umpteenth time at the dog's swirly golden eyes, saying quietly to him, "I thought you'd run off again. Will you come with me?"

To her consternation, though, the dog barked once, then turned and ran toward the portal, where he disappeared. Emery got to her feet, a little confused. Unwilling to look at Cullen, she turned to Cathbad questioningly.

The druid seemed uncomfortable, unsure whether to speak to Emery or keep silent. He held his hands out in a sort of shrug, looking toward Cullen, but ultimately, he said sheepishly to Emery, "The dog is the pooka, Lady."

"I thought it was a horse!"

"They're shapeshifters, as I said."

Forgetting herself, Emery grew angry. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Cathbad tipped his head to one side, looked askance, muttered, "Because nobody told me."

"Enough."

Cullen's voice cut through Emery and Cathbad both, and the girl remembered he was there. She couldn't be a coward before him. She had to try, at least, to appear brave. She couldn't let him think he had any upper hand. It wouldn't do for this or any--any future encounters. At last turning her eyes to him, she saw him in his attire of the previous night, though he held his cloak rather than wore it, and the sleeves and length of his long tunic as well as the brass-scaled breastplate were covered in blood. She'd been warned, but the sight of it disturbed her, nonetheless. He looked exhausted but stern, and she hated that she felt drawn to him at the same moment he repulsed her.

"Come," he ordered, holding out a weary hand to her.

Emery's breath shook, her chest tightened. Could she do this? Her mind moved in circles. Was this truly the best decision? Would it not be safer to stay, to operate in a world she knew, no matter if she were a ghost in it?

"I don't know you," she said fearful though steady. "There's no proof we were married. Even Cat says he didn't know anything about it, that you ran off in secret. I--I can't go--" Emery stopped, frustration welling in her. She felt an urge to turn and run.

The druid crouched back a bit when Cullen shot him a dark look, but then the warrior stepped nearer to Emery. Mere feet from her, his eyes glittering like precious gems, he spoke. "The dog. What did you call the dog?"

Emery shook her head, perplexed, tears creeping from the corners of her eyes. "The dog?"

"Just now, when he came to you. His name?"

"T-Tara. I named him Tara. But why--?"

The hard edges of his desperate mouth, his searching eyes softened; he exhaled a deep breath. "It's where I brought you, that night, the Hill of Tara. It's where we were wed, Emer, where we promised ourselves to one another. Now come." Again, the large, strong hand went out to her.

Everything had come loose at his words. Emery's heart beat wildly against her ribs. Her entire body vibrated with apprehension. But with an encouraging nod from Cathbad and no convictions left to cling to, she extended her fair, trembling hand and, placing it in his, allowed herself to be led beneath the uprooted tree and into the portal beyond.

THE END (of book I)