“Oh, Goddess! I’ll need my surgical box and a board to brace his back.”

“Those things already await you.”

Aine jogged beside the Chieftain down the path that emptied into the Wastelands side of the pass, feeling a terrible sinking in her stomach. The air was thick, oppressive. This was too much like what had happened to Maev. Then she noticed that Monro was wheezing and dropping behind her. He stumbled and almost fell. Aine paused, but he brushed off her aid.

“Go on.” He motioned feebly down the path. “Take the first right hand fork. Edan and the rest of them are waiting. I’ll catch up.”

Aine nodded and jogged away from him. Pathetic. Before I join Tegan I’ll get a message to the Muse. Guardian Castle needs a change in leadership.

When she came to the fork in the road, she sprinted to the right, finding her second wind. In the thickening darkness she almost fell over Edan. He was lying in the middle of the path-alone. He had been disemboweled and his throat had been ripped out.

Aine sank to her knees beside Edan. She didn’t have to touch him to know he was dead. Her surgeon’s box was sitting neatly beside the body, just as the Monro had said it would be. There was no back brace, though.

“He doesn’t need it,” she whispered numbly.

“Ahhhhh, there you are, Healer.”

Aine looked up into the eyes of evil.

A Fomorian stood before her. Several other creatures were behind him, carrying torches. The flickering light slicked off Edan’s blood, which covered the leader’s hands and face. He smiled and his dark wings rustled. There was blood in his fangs.

“I have need of a Healer,” the Fomorian said.

“Who are you?”

“You may call me Nuada…or master.” His laughter was horrible. The creatures behind him echoed it, making the sound bounce eerily off the walls of the pass.

Aine sprang to her feet and ran. Nuada opened his wings, gliding easily to cut off her retreat. He grabbed her arms, sinking his claws into her cruelly.

“I need your services, but that does not mean that you must remain completely undamaged.”

He bared his fangs at her and bent down, but he didn’t complete the attack. As he got near her skin his almost colorless eyes widened. He seemed to consider, and then pushed her so that she stumbled back towards Edan’s body.

“Take her to the camp, but treat her carefully. We wouldn’t want our Healer broken.” His laughter followed Aine as the others grabbed her and dragged her along the pass.

Aine studied the Fomorians as they traveled. She forced herself to be dispassionate and use medical logic to assess them. Physically, they were similar to Tegan. They were the same species. That was obvious. But these males were different. They looked more insectile. They were taller, thinner, and their claws were more prominent. Some of their fangs were visible even when their mouths weren’t open. Their leader, Nuada, was the most grotesque of the group. He was larger and stronger than the others. That they feared him was obvious.

Her Tegan was not like these creatures. These were the beasts of nightmare stories-what she had accused him of being. Instead of rejecting her mate, she understood what it was that had driven him into lonely exile. He didn’t belong with these demons any more than she did.

The Fomorian camp was laughably close to the castle at the bottom of a ravine. Maev’s dying words came back to her, The warriors know! They know! Fomorians had killed the centaur, and the warriors of Guardian Castle knew they were here. Not Edan, though. Aine knew in her heart that he had not been corrupted. That was why they had killed him.

Nuada grabbed her arm and dragged her to a tented structure that was guarded by several Fomorians.

“Healer, I expect you to make sure they live for at least as long as it takes the young to be brought forth.” He shoved her inside the tent, throwing her surgical box in after her.

Aine blinked, trying to accustom her eyes to the sudden brightness. The opulently decorated tent was lit by hundreds of candles. Women lounged on cushions, sipping wine and eating pastries. She recognized several of them as women who had ignored her when she had first arrived at Guardian Castle.

They were all pregnant.

“Oh, good. You’re finally here.” A blonde with a bulging abdomen motioned regally at Aine. “I’m having some discomfort and the wine is not dulling it. I need you to give me something to relieve the pain.”

Aine stared at her, swallowing down her fear and revulsion. Those creatures out there were not Tegan, just as she was not these women. “You’re pregnant with a Fomorian’s child.”

“Of course.”

“Why?” Aine said, not hiding her disgust.

The blonde’s eyes went cold and mean. “That is not your concern. You’re here for us.”

“We’re bringing a new species into this world,” a plump redhead said dreamily.

“An army that will worship us and our beautiful, three-faced god.”

Aine felt sick. They worshipped evil; they reveled in it.

“Quiet! She’s only here to stop our pain.” The blonde gave Aine a cruel look. “Now, do you brew us something or do I call Nuada and tell him we don’t need you after all?”

Aine pulled opiates from her surgical box while she concentrated her mind on one thing, over and over: Tegan, be wary, but come to me…

Tegan arrived with the next dusk.

His sword slicing through the rear of the canvas tent made a distinctive sound. He held open the flap and offered his hand to her. Aine looked at the women she’d drugged one last time before taking his hand and turning her back on them. They didn’t speak until they were well beyond the Fomorian camp.

“Did you know about them?” Aine was facing him, arms wrapped around herself as if anticipating a physical blow.

“I knew my people had given in to evil. I knew they were planning an attack on Partholon. I did not know about the women.”

“They’re dead,” Aine said in an emotionless voice.

“The women?”

“I killed them. They were all completely mad. I gave them an easy death before they could bring more demons into this world.”

Tegan’s head shook back and forth over and over. “You shouldn’t have killed. The darkness taints you like that.”

“And what should I have done?” Aine was weeping openly. “Run away? Hide?” She rounded on him, shoving hard against his chest. Tegan made no move to defend himself against her. “You’re not like them! You’re not a demon, but you did less than nothing. You didn’t stay and fight. You let evil win.”

His voice was hollow. “If I’d stayed I would have become what they are. The darkness infected them. I left because I wanted to live without darkness.”

“You left and let darkness rule. What did you think would happen to Partholon if you stayed silent? What did you think would happen to us?”

“I wasn’t thinking about Partholon when I exiled myself. I just wanted to be free of evil and death. I didn’t expect to meet you. I didn’t expect to love you.”

Mocking applause sounded from the darkness. Nuada stepped out of the shadows. “What a moving speech, brother.”

Tegan stepped between Nuada and Aine. “We’re not brothers anymore,” he said.

“We still share the same blood.” Nuada’s smile was feral as he looked beyond Tegan to Aine. “I see more blood that I’d like to share with you.”

“You’ll have to kill me first.”

“As you wish.”

The shadows behind Nuada stirred. Aine saw at least a dozen Fomorians awaiting their master’s command.

Then Tegan changed before her eyes. His wings unfurled. His fingers became talons. His eyes blazed with anger. “Run and live! I will find you.” He told her in a voice magnified by power before he leaped forward to meet Nuada’s attack.