Since we started our search, some days past Lughnasadh, the Lady Moon has gone from thin to fat to thin again. Day after day, we comb the road and the woods and the banks of the river. Night after night, we return to the keep with empty hands. It is as if Flidais has vanished from this plane. Igraine’s hounds have found the scent, but only at the place of the attack. Many times I have tried seeking her in the dream lands. Each time, when I think I have found her life-spark, it vanishes and reappears somewhere else.

Still, I know that she is out here… somewhere… alive… frightened. I have come near to touching her several times. I feel her presence, but it is as tenuous as the will-o-the-wisp in the bogs. Only once before have I encountered such problems. My quarry had swathed himself in silks which were laced with silver. Only once did I see him clearly, and that was when he entered the water to swim across a river. It seems the silk was not effective when wet.