A greenish glow leads me to my Night Raven. I find him standing just outside the circle of Morann and his dark-clad minions. They resemble crows at Morrigan's feast as they huddle around a large black stone. In the center of the circle lies the Rian of Niafer, still gazing blankly at the pale dawn skies. My ears are sickly enchanted by the drone of the death-chant. Soon the Rian's gaze will be forever blinded.

"This is not for us!" I grab 'Daig's arm and hiss a warning that immediately fetches a stifling glare from Morann. My feet take root to the ground. I cannot move! Everything feels frosty and numb, except for the hand with which I grasp my sword. A warmth exhudes from the hilt and keeps my fingers from freezing. I curl them around that familiar curve and wait for the right time.

The droning goes on and on. Nausea rises in my throat while my heart goes cold with horror. When I think I can't stand it anymore, it suddenly stops.

"The axe, Night Raven!" Morann grins at Hadaig, a grimace of murderous brotherhood. 'Daig stays still. I wonder if he has heard Morann, if he, too, has fallen into a trance or perhaps been given a potion. Morann repeats his command, a dangerous edge to his voice. Again, there is no response.

When Morann reaches for the axe, my vision blurs as if I am seeing everything reflected in a rippling pool. 'Daig's arm tenses ever so slightly. He steps back and smiles. I know he is about to strike. I tighten my grip on the sword and a wave of warmth rises from wrist to shoulder to thaw my frozen self.

From out of nowhere, there is Lasair, leaping into the circle, screaming like a madwoman, with her sword held high above her head. She slashes through Morann's back with one powerful stroke, then another and another. The swiftness of the attack takes my breath away. Steaming gore splatters us all. With a jagged ripping sound, she yanks the sword back from his twitching body.

Morann pitches forward. Before he hits the ground, two arrows find their lethal marks, one in an eye and one in an ear, bringing down the druid's pair of minions.

"Sean?" I mumble, too shocked to speak above a whisper.

The earth jolts under my feet, unrooting me at last. My vision clears, becomes too clear now, for I don't want to see what I see. When a whitebearded elder steps out of the shadows and confronts us with a glowing staff, I close my eyes.

"Sweet Brighid, let this be a dream!"

Hadaig gives me a rousing shove. "Not a dream," he growls. "Look!"

A woman strides out of the mists. Suddenly we are surrounded by wolves, hounds, fire and warriors, in an array of chaotic confusion. The wild-haired elder rushes to aid the Rian. With one wave of her hand, the woman extinguishes the fire.

"If you have had no part in harming the Rian of Niafer, then go in peace, but also with haste. If you have had a part in harming her, then prepare to die!"

Faced with dogs, spears and swords on all sides and no sign of our Laigin allies, I whirl on my heel and take flight.