Emery returned to the table under a cloud no one seemed able to dispel. Even as music picked up, flutes and stringed instruments and animal hide drums, the girl sat in a mood that, unbeknownst to her, mirrored that of her husband. Naoise looked once or twice at Emery and then fell into his own thoughts, though he at least tried to remain engaged in his brothers' conversations. Tess noticed her friend's shadow but was unsure what had caused it and didn't want to ask about it in front of everyone.

"Why don't we go say something to Cearnach?" Tess recommended, hoping that might give her friend something to think about besides whatever was on her mind.

But Emery didn't want to go near that table, not when Cullen was there. His dour expression was enough to turn aside a ray of sunshine. Tess didn't mention the obvious, that he and Emery were two peas in a pod at the moment, and before she had opportunity to say anything else, someone was calling for the attention of the hall.

Tess turned and Emery looked up from the table to see another member of the Red Branch, Bricriu of the Venom Tongue as Cathbad had called him some time ago, standing before the platform, facing the entire assembled company, employing a far more commanding voice than his slight figure seemed capable of and asking all gathered whether they'd like to hear a tale. Emery expected at least one or two drunken jokers to tell him no, but no one did. In fact, everyone eagerly grinned and expressed genuine excitement. To her, who had been to concerts and the theater and sporting events, the enthusiasm of the crowd was impressive, as all that they were about to do was hear someone recite a poem. Emery had sat through enough AP English lessons to turn her off to most poetry for a lifetime.

And yet, there was certainly something about the confidence of this man as he climbed up onto a pallet to gain a bit of height. He wasn't tall by any standard; in fact, he was perhaps slightly shorter than Emery, but that could've been due to his tendency to walk hunched over. Up on the pallet, though, he stood straight, and he seemed to gain not just in height but in presence. Even his silvery hair and his deep-set eyes, which Emery had deemed incongruous with his age, added to his gravity.

The hall fell remarkably silent as Bricriu spoke. "I thank you for your attention, all. I sing to you this night a song of love, of two from worlds so different, so far, that they seemed doomed to remain apart."

Momentarily, Emery's stomach dropped. Hadn't she promised Bricriu that he could tell her story one day? Was he going to sing about her and Cullen?! But no . . . she hadn't remembered yet; he said he'd tell the story when she'd remembered. And surely Bricriu wouldn't be crazy enough to recite poetry about Cullen right in front of him. Still, a few terrifying moments passed during which Emery tried to prepare herself for what she might hear. Then Bricriu was waving a hand toward the musicians, and she had no more time to worry. One musician began to pick quiet minor chords on a stringed instrument, while another played a soft, plaintive tune on a small bone flute. The poet bode his time, allowing the music to take effect on the listeners, and then at length, he closed his eyes, and he began to sing in a voice delicate yet strong:

He dreamt a swan upon the air,

Most precious jewel of Heaven's loft.

Into the crystal twilit blue

She winged so white and feathery soft.

Though dark be long and day be short

In light-limned love he sought afar;

The clarion voice she left behind

In ripples touched the deepest star.

His hope he met one dusky eve

Near waters where she'd formed her bed.

Her eyes aflame with tortured light,

The beauty spoke, and this she said:

"Oh wanderer you cannot know

Your lovelorn journey is in vain,

For true as your intentions be

A curse was once upon me lain.

Eternally a bird I be;

No mortal 'gainst it can prevail.

Abandon now your lost pursuit,

Relinquish this forlorn travail."

But he, bright God, for so he was,

Recalled the fated reverie

That once had been his longing's cause—

Resolved to knit their destinies.

As she of snowy plume took flight

A glittering veil consumed the one

Who stood upon the dewy bank.

Then burst a beacon, bright as sun.

From it arose an argent being

Resplendent in the dying day,

Who tore into the vault above,

Eclipsed the moon along its way.

No glance gave he the world below;

Ambition's end the Gods divine.

Propelled by nothing less than love

Seraphic wings so fierce entwined.

Transcending the celestial spheres

The two-now-one enraptured all

Who for three days and for three nights

Were graced with their supernal call.

Bricriu's final words blended so seamlessly into the music behind them, which in turn dwindled so naturally, that when both song and sound had ceased, the listeners in the hall seemed to wake slowly, as if from a dream. The silence was so profound that Emery could hear only the crackling flames of the fire, despite the amount of people present, and anyone whose face she happened to glimpse showed eyes damp and dreamy. When everyone did begin to move and speak, they did so with a sort of reverence, as if each were afraid to make much sound, until slowly but surely, the hall rolled into its pre-poetry noise levels. At some point, the musicians began to play something lively, and that helped bring back the energy as well.

Emery couldn't believe how bewitching Bricriu's voice had been. She watched the man descend from his post and morph back into his illusory hunched and aged figure, knowing now how such a man--who didn't appear to possess the physical prowess of his peers--was a member of the Red Branch Knights. If all of his songs and poems were as beautiful as the one he'd just sung, he had a power unlike anyone else.

"Come with me, Em," Tess said quietly to her friend, pulling Emery out of the daze she'd fallen into.

"What? Why?"

"We need to talk. Cat said there's a room back there." Tess pointed behind the platform. Emery shuddered momentarily, thinking of King Conchobar and what he'd expected of her that day he'd arrived, but then she agreed, knowing they could slip back there without anyone really noticing.

Emery entered the room first--it was mostly a bedroom, but it was quite large and furnished more like Cullen's own house. Emery didn't mention that to Tess, as no one knew she'd seen it. The two of them sat on a bench against the wall there, looking at one another as if unsure what exactly to say. But then Tess threw her arms around Emery and just hugged her for a minute, and Emery couldn't help but begin to cry. Whether the tears were for her mood over the past few days or her conversation with Naoise or the song Bricriu had just sung or absolutely everything that had built up since she'd arrived, Emery didn't know. At least Tess was there--she felt no embarrassment crying in front of Tess.

But Emery couldn't indulge too long. She began to feel selfish. Tess didn't need her drama. Pulling away, Emery wiped her eyes with her sleeve. She took deep, controlled breaths to calm herself. "I am so sorry. I don't even know what my problem is."

"It's everything," Tess replied, her deep blue eyes just like Charlie's, though hers were more gentle and kind while his held a bit more mischief.

"How have you been able to do all of this?" Emery waved a hand at nothing in particular. "It's like you fit in here. You don't complain about anything."

Tess's forehead wrinkled. "Believe me, I've complained. It's just not been to you. You've had enough to worry about without adding me to the list."

"No, but Tess, I would feel better if you complained. I keep feeling like I'm the only one losing my mind. You've got Cat taking care of you, Oonagh belongs here, everyone else belongs here . . . I don't. Even though everyone says I do, I don't feel it." She looked away, at the bed she'd slept on several weeks ago, thought about how she'd felt so clever for solving a problem that had seemed unsolvable. But now there were so many problems, and she didn't know how to solve even one of them. Emery's eyes glazed. She thought for a moment, added, "That song, Tess. It was so pretty. It just made me feel . . . I don't know. Sad."

"Cat said it was about a God named Aengus and a woman he fell in love with who turned into a swan, so he turned into one, too, to be with her." Tess looked hard at Emery, pondered how exactly to say what she needed to say. "The only way you'll feel better is to just talk to him, Em."

"Did Cat tell you to say that to me?"

"It's true, though. I see you. Remember how long I sat and watched you and my brother act like you didn't care about each other? I can tell you have feelings for Cullen."

"Yeah, like anger, and annoyance."

"I'm serious, though."

"Me too!" Emery tried to hold her own against Tess, but her friend's impossibly amusing expression of doubt as she tried to raise an eyebrow was too much. "Stop! I can't even take you seriously when you look at me like that. You know, even if ninety percent of what I remember about our friendship is fake, I'm glad you're here. I love Oonagh, but you and I--we've been through a lot." Tess nodded expectantly. Emery sighed, slumped her shoulders, gave in. "I feel a lot of things about him, but I can't talk to him. He's so . . . difficult."

"You're difficult, too."

Emery huffed indignantly, then admitted, "Ok, I know that. I am, sometimes. But it would be so much easier if I remembered. I thought I would by now. It just makes everything so awkward, because he remembers things about me that I don't. And it's the kind of stuff that's . . . hard to ask about. He said we met at a river, though," she added absently, "when we were riding horses. I rode horses! And I think I was good at it."

Tess clapped her hands. "See! That's a start! You've got that. And the more he can tell you, the more you'll start to remember."

"I don't know about that. I don't remember meeting him or riding horses just because he said it happened. He could tell me anything in the world, and I'd believe him, because I don't actually have memories of it."

"He wouldn't lie to you. Why would he do that?"

"I'm not saying he would. I'm just saying that him telling me stuff isn't helpful; it's like hearing stories about someone else." Emery turned away and crossed her arms, obstinacy taking over. "And besides, how do you know he wouldn't lie to me? You don't know him any more than I do."

Tess sounded almost ashamed when she replied. "Cat does, though. And I trust him."

"Well, that's great for you. But you and Cat aren't married to him, so your trust doesn't really matter."

Placing a hand on Emery's shoulder, Tess said, "I know. You're right about everything. I'm not trying to argue with you. I just--I see you're hurting, and I don't know how to help you."

Emery bent over and put her head in her hands. She knew Tess was right, but she didn't know how to talk to Cullen any more than she had when Cathbad had suggested it. However, she did have an idea, something that had been in her thoughts for a while, though she hadn't known whether exactly it would be possible. "I do have one way you and Cat could help me, Tess."

"What? Anything!"

She turned to her friend. "I want to go to my old house, Luglochta Loga. Maybe being there will bring things back to me. Apparently, I never lived here in Dun-Dealgan, never even visited. This place wouldn't have meant anything to me. But maybe . . . maybe Luglochta Loga will. I mean, I lived there with my dad--Forgall." She said the name with a fair amount of disgust. "Did I have a mother? I must have, but I know literally nothing about her. And maybe there are people there who could answer questions for me, and--"

"All right!" Tess interrupted, laughing. "It's a great idea. I don't know why none of us thought of it." She suddenly frowned. "Cat won't like it, though. I can tell you right now he won't. He said Cullen doesn't want you leaving Dun-Dealgan at all."

"Still? He didn't tell me that! You see why he infuriates me?" Emery growled in frustration, then simmered down a bit. "Well, who says he has to know if we go? Cat can just use magic to get us there and back."

Tess filled her cheeks with air and blew it out. "Cullen was really mad with him for keeping that information about The Dark Man, and he was even madder that you got out on Samhain. He didn't behead those guards, but the way he scolded them, in front of everyone . . . they probably would've rather lost their heads than listen. I'm sure the shame they felt was worse than any physical punishment."

Hearing that made Emery angry again, but she wasn't going to waste her breath on Cullen anymore. "So Cat won't help? Not even if it's you that asks?"

Tess fumbled for words.

Emery understood. "Nevermind. I won't ask you to ask him."

Tess was visibly relieved. "What if you ask Cullen to take you? I bet he would. If you just asked--"

"I don't want anything from him. And I definitely don't want to go on some day trip together. It was enough being in the woods all that time." She fell silent. "It wasn't that bad, actually. It almost felt like we were starting to get along a little." She looked back toward her friend. "But it doesn't matter. Soon Cat will find Charlie--you heard him say it. Then we can go home."

Nodding her head resolutely, Tess put a hand on Emery's shoulder. "Listen. I'll bring up Luglochta Loga to Cat. I won't say we've talked about it, just sort of mention it. Maybe he'll have some ideas." She squeezed Emery's shoulder a little. "Now come on. Let's go back out."

"I need a minute. Go ahead." Emery smiled blandly at Tess, then watched her friend head back into the noise and light and warmth. For some while, Emery sat there and thought of Bricriu's song, of how it had made her feel, of whether he'd sung it on purpose for her, of how a God loved that woman so much he'd given up everything to become a swan and be with her. Was Emery more the swan or the God in that story? She wasn't sure she wanted to be either.