While I stand in the middle of the road and try to decide which way to go, three riders come up over the crest of the hill. There's a woman in a black cloak. Ah! It is the outlaw lass Baine shadowed in her long, flowing hair. I recognize the large form of Keu Mórlámh with her, and on the other horse the brown cloak of the archer has two heads, himself and his elvin wife, wrapped snugly as one.

Where is the hunchback leader of the pack? Will they meet him down the road? Does Baine know the Night Raven has met his doom? Will they let me ride with them?

Only the last question is answered for now. Keu's enchanted arm seems to have lost its magic. It is bound in blood-soaked rags. Sean's young face looks older somehow. He stares at me through tired, red eyes. Winter Mist's eyes are closed but I can tell by her pale skin that she's badly wounded and in pain.

No one greets me. Keu and Sean ride slowly past. Baine smiles wearily and points to one of the extra horses. I try to smile back. It feels strange, almost forbidden, to smile. I take the gray mare and mount up. Sean, with his wife, takes the lead. I will be glad to ride last and watch everyone's back.

Lorcan will have to wonder whatever has happened to his bull and the hired sword he sent to retrieve it. Morann is dead. There is no longer any need to disguise myself or live in fear. I am safe. For now. With the outlaws of Magh Croimor.