"That is my most fervent wish," I said.

"Very well," she said. "Come with me. You, Har- lequin, Alachia, and I will discuss this matter."

I rose, and without even a backward glance at Caimbeui, I followed her from the hall. It had been a long time since I'd had to call upon the good graces of my fellow elves. I suspected the reception to what I was about to say would be chilly indeed.

She opens her eyes. Darkness suffocates her, pushing against her like an old lover. Putting her hands up, she feels the smoothness of satin. She pushes, but there is resistance. A hardness under the soft fabric.

A spell. There is light.

This is no kaer. This is a coffin.

And she's been buried alive in it.

Lady Brane motioned for me to sit. The room was an odd mixture of magic, antiques, and hardware. Though I dislike the technology that Caimbeui so adores, even I was impressed with the array of hyper-edged toys. Any shadowrunner would have been drooling at the chance to get his hands on Lady Deigh's high-tech toys.

I didn't sit. Instead I wandered about the room, looking at the collection of elven artifacts. Encased in a glass box was a long silver sword whose hasp was plated in gold and set with cabochon emeralds and rubies. So, this was where the Sword of Nuadha had finally come to rest. I thought it had been lost long ago.

Next to it was a plain cup roughly carved from hom. It should have seemed prosaic, sitting there next to the glory of the sword, but it was the other way round. The Sword of Nuadha seemed coarse and obvious.

I'd just stepped over to a lovely painting of Caimbeui in some costume I didn't recognize when he and Alachia came into the room. Lady Brane smiled at her and she smiled back. My heart sank when I saw this. Already I was at a disadvantage. I could only hope that Caimbeui would provide a strong argument for my position.

"Now that we're all here," began Lady Brane. "Shouldn't we start?"

"You are the only Elders?" I asked, more than a little shocked.

"No, of course not," said Lady Brane. "But the others have agreed to let me handle this situation as I see fit. They have deferred to Lady Alachia and me."

I glanced over at Caimbeui, who kept his face blank. And I wondered if he knew this would be the situation going in.

"Very well," I said. "It's really quite simple. The Horrors have returned."

Alachia let out a silvery laugh that I just knew would enchant any man who heard it and which set my teeth on edge.

"You are still so melodramatic, Aina," she said. "Good heavens. It is far too early for them to have returned."

When I answered and my voice was calm, it surprised me. For as long as I could remember, Alachia had the power to anger me with her flip comments.

"I realize that you are far older than I," I said. "But my experience with what you so blithely refer to as the Enemy is hardly inconsiderable. Even you would have to admit that."

She gave a small nod of her head, the best ac- knowledgment I could hope for.

"Caimbeui came to me the other day and told me of his recent experience with them."

Alachia and Lady Brane looked at him expect- antly, and he preened a bit under the attention. What an ego. But he did manage to tell them about Thayla and the bridge from the astral planes and how he had stopped them.

"Well," said Alachia. "There you have it. Thayla's there protected by one of those hirelings, and we're all quite safe."

"Are you completely mad?" I asked, losing my temper at last. "Hasn't anything he's said sunk in? Oh, I expected him to be full of beer and sausages. He's always had this messiah complex, but you know better. If they don't get through that way, they'll find another. They're coming back now be- cause they can. Look at what happened in Maui."

And then it dawned on me. I almost hit myself for being such a fool. Of course, she knew the dangers. But she didn't care. I thought back over our history together and realized that Alachia had been at her most powerful during the times when we faced the Enemy. Her dark knowledge had been as much a bane as help. But it hadn't mattered because we would do anything to survive. And I knew what she wanted was for that time to come again. She was tired of waiting.

But perhaps I could reach Lady Brane.

"Lady Brane," I began, "I know you have heard terrible stories about me. Some are even true. But that isn't what is important here. What is important is that I'm telling the truth. I know better than most the evil these creatures will unleash should they come through before we are prepared. They will lay waste the world and everything in it. And this time we aren't prepared to stop them. We haven't the power."

"You seem powerful enough," said Lady Brane. "You call down the Hunt, or part of it, at least. You live beyond the rule of either Tir. You consort with the Great Worms as though you were one of them instead of one of us."

"Now, now," said Alachia. "Let's be fair. Aina has always been very forthright about what she be- lieves in. She has never challenged the authority of the Tirs. Nor has she sought temporal power for her- self. I prefer to think that she has been terribly mis- led and will someday see her error and come back to us."

I looked at Caimbeui, trying hard riot to lose what little I'd had to eat in the last few days. The expression on his face was shocked, then suspicious. Yet, still he didn't speak up. What was wrong with him?

"Alachia is right, of course," said Lady Brane. "What other proof do you have that the Enemy is near?"

"Dreams," I said, hoping she would understand the importance of this. "And the certain knowledge that one of the most powerful of them is already among us."

"And where is this dread creature?" asked Alachia.

"I know not," I said. "Only that he is here now. He has contacted me."

"And why would it bother to come for you?"

"Because," I said. "It knows me. I am the one it wants."

"And you are so special?"

"Yes," I said. "You should remember. It was the monster who marked me so many millennia ago."

I thought I saw Alachia go a little paler. Lady Brane seemed a bit confused, and I suspected there was much that Alachia had left out of her history lessons.

"How do you know for certain that it is this one?" Alachia asked. "This could be the work of another Elder. You have your enemies, my dear."

My eyes narrowed. "I know of no enemy of mine who would use such matters for the Game. That would be a gross breach of etiquette. No, it is he."

"But what would you have us do about it?" Alachia asked. "It seems that this is really your problem."

"Now, perhaps," I said. "But it means they can get through. We are not safe any more. We must pre- pare for them, and also curtail our use of magic."

Lady Brane came out of her chair. "Stop using magic? Now I think you are the one who is mad," she said. "I hardly think one of these creatures is a serious enough threat to us. You are terribly power- ful. Why don't you just kill it?"

"I've tried," I said bleakly. "I thought I had rid the world of him long ago. But I was mistaken. That is why it is vital for us to put a stop to them now- before they get a better foothold in the world."

"How are you going to stop everyone from using magic?" asked Lady Brane.

"It isn't small magics that are the danger. It's the great acts that draw them. The Great Ghost Dance. The Veil, I'm certain, is creating a pull. While it will protect you from them, it will also bring them like carrion to a carcass."

"Not a very appetizing thought," muttered Alachia.

"You know what a danger they are," I said. "Why haven't you told her?"

"I have told her. But I've also told her we dealt successfully with them before."