7: The Middle Kingdom

<body topmargin=0 leftmargin=0 marginheight=0 marginwidth=0> <table cellpadding=0 cellspacing=0 border=0><tr> <td valign="top" colspan=2 height=90 BGCOLOR="#CC9900" TEXT="#080000" bgproperties="fixed" background="047005a0dwnjzk.gif"> <div> <A HREF="index.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Cassies Writing"><U><B>home</B></U></A><B>     | </B><B> </B><B> </B><B>  </B><FONT SIZE="5" COLOR="#FFCC66" FACE="Arial" ><B>Cassie's Writing</B></FONT></div> <div> <A HREF="id25.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="1: Surprise Encounter"><U><B>1:  Surprise Encounter</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id26.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="2: A Proscribed Venerable Love"><U><B>2:  A Proscribed Venerable Love</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id27.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="3: Stalked by the Vampire"><U><B>3:  Stalked by the Vampire</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id28.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="4: Flight to the Auld Country"><U><B>4:  Flight to the Auld Country</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id29.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="5: Ally From Nowhere"><U><B>5:  Ally From Nowhere</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id30.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="6: Tales of Pookahs and the Sidhe Peopl"><U><B>6:  Tales of Pookahs and the Sidhe People</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><B>7:  The Middle Kingdom</B><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id32.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="8: My Lady Healer"><U><B>8:  My Lady Healer</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id33.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="9: Triple Betrayal"><U><B>9:  Triple Betrayal</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id34.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="10: A World Apart"><U><B>10:  A World Apart</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id35.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="11: Flight From Tara"><U><B>11:  Flight From Tara</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id36.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="12: Imbas Forosna"><U><B>12:  Imbas Forosna</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id37.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="13: Wheel of Fortune"><U><B>13:  Wheel of Fortune</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id38.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="14: Wednesday, the Best Day of All"><U><B>14:  Wednesday, the Best Day of All</B></U></A></div> <div> </div> </td> </tr><tr> <td valign="top" width=210 BGCOLOR="#FFFFFF" TEXT="#080000"> <div> <B>7:  The Middle Kingdom</B></div> <bR> </td> <td valign="top" height=390 BGCOLOR="#FFFFFF" TEXT="#080000"> <div> "It's just a shot away," Quentin mumbled, not quite conscious but awake enough to realize how badly his head was aching and how much his arm hurt. Geez," he muttered.  He wanted to put a hand to his head, realized he couldn't move one arm, and so he put the other hand to the back of his head.  It came away sticky.  He opened his eyes, shocked, and looked at his bloody hand.  "Julia!" he called, panicking.  He started to sit up.</div> <div>      A man's arms gently pushed him down.  "Dia duit," he said, his voice sounding low and hoarse.  "Cen choi 'bhfuil tu?"</div> <div>      Quentin looked at him blankly.  The man was dark all over: black hair and dark brown eyes, a wild tangled black beard mixed with a few streaks of white, he wore a black cloak over animal hide--maybe deerskin.  "What?  Where am I?  Where's Julia?"</div> <div>      The man turned and called out: "Niamh!"</div> <div>      A woman appeared. "Aon sceal 'ad?" she asked in a teasing voice.</div> <div>      The man jerked his thumb at Quentin.  The words tumbled over each other.  Quentin attempted to sit up again, frightened--what had happened to Julia?  Where was he?  Instantly the woman was beside him, laying her hand on his head.  Quentin felt a surge of heat emanating from her fingertips. It felt somewhat like an electrical shock.  </div> <div> "You're frightened because you don't understand," he heard the woman </div> <div> saying.  "You'll be all right now."</div> <div>      "What did you do?"</div> <div>      "Nothing--I only made it possible for us to understand each other.  You don't speak our language and we don't speak yours otherwise."</div> <div>      "He called out for his woman.  We should bring her," the man said.</div> <div>      "Is she all right?" Quentin demanded.  "Where is she?"</div> <div>      "Niamh, bring the healer," the man said, and the woman slipped through a crevice in the cave wall.  "I am called Caoimhghin."</div> <div>      Quentin was positive he couldn't repeat the name.  He felt dizzy and fought off waves of panic and nausea.  "Quentin," he said in answer.  The man didn't appear to be a threat.  "Where is Jason McGuire?"</div> <div>      "Lie back," Caoimhghin advised kindly.  "I know of no one named Jason McGuire.  Do you know what happened to you?"</div> <div>      "My cousin attacked me," Quentin answered, lying back obediently.  He was on a makeshift cot, lying on a feather bed.  He was probably bleeding all over it.  Stunned, he touched the back of his head again.  "I'm not supposed to be </div> <div> bleeding."</div> <div>      "You fell hard onto a rock.  It was sharp," Caoimhghin explained.  "Your kinsman attacked you?  Why?"</div> <div>      It's a long story, Quentin thought wearily, and so was the story about why he shouldn't be bleeding and why his arm shouldn't be immobilized.  He started to sit up again to look at his arm.  A sharp piece of bone protruded through his forearm.  His eyes rolled back in his head and he fell back before Caoimhghin realized what was happening.</div> <bR> <div>      Uninjured, Julia waited impatiently for news of Quentin.  Her last coherent memory of Rathcroghan was of several hands pulling her through a crevice in the wall.  How could she have possibly fit through such a tiny opening?  She shook her head, impatient with herself.  What difference did it make?  She was no longer there, she was now here!  </div> <div>      She was frantic to know how Quentin was.  Barnabas hadn't injured her, although he'd tried.  He'd been about to sink his fangs into her neck when Quentin hit him with the rowan branch.  She, too, had heard the pop and sizzle; Barnabas roared with pain and rage almost directly into her ear before pushing her away.  She'd fallen hard and instinctively told herself not to move.  She'd seen Barnabas hurl Quentin through the air before feeling many hands grabbing her, pulling her to "safety".</div> <div>      Stunned, she realized half a dozen primitive looking women, dark haired and dark-eyed, surrounded her.  They stared at her red hair and pale freckled skin with wonder.  One of them appeared to be little older than a child.  </div> <div> She reached out and stroked Julia's hair.</div> <div>      "Who are you?" Julia demanded.  "Where am I?"  No one answered; they continued to stare at her with wide-eyes.  "Where is Quentin?"  She raised her voice, anger and fear mixing together.  What if Barnabas hurt Quentin in his maddened rage?  "I want to go back!  Take me back!"</div> <div>      One of the women stepped forward, speaking gently.  Julia couldn't understand her.  The woman gestured that she wanted to touch Julia.  "What for?" Julia snapped irritably.  "Take me back this instant, do you hear me?"  At the woman's touch, Julia began to draw back instinctively.  The woman's fingers were firm and tightened about her wrist slightly.</div> <div>      The buzzing in the cavern room became individual words.  "She's not Tuatha De Danaan.  They don't have the red fiery hair this one has either."</div> <div>      "She must be--they're sorcerers, after all.  She could change her appearance to frighten us."</div> <div>      "What are those brown spots on her?"</div> <div>      "Freckles," Julia answered automatically.  The women all giggled, realizing they could understand each other.  "Just who are you people?  Where am I?"</div> <div>      "You're safe with us," the woman who touched her answered.  "I am called Niamh.  You are not Tuatha De Danaan?  You are not with the invaders?"</div> <div>      Invaders?  Julia's brows rushed together.  "I am Doctor Julia Hoffman.  My fiancé, Quentin, and I were in this cave.  There were only two others--Barnabas Collins and Jason McGuire.  I have no idea how I got in here--you all pulled me here."</div> <div>      "To save your life," Niamh explained gravely.  "Doctor?  That is your name--or your title?  Are you noble?  A queen?"</div> <div>      Julia laughed nervously.  "No, I'm a doctor."  She realized she was just repeating herself.  "I help sick people or injured people.  I try to help make them better."</div> <div>      "A healer?" Niamh's brows shot up.  Julia nodded.  Everyone exchanged looks.  The other women looked delighted.  "This is my younger sister, Doireann," Niamh said.  "My youngest sister, Aoife."  This was the adolescent.  Aoife, I heard that name before, Julia thought.  The others were Muireann and Eithne.</div> <div>      "I'm happy to meet you all, I am sure," Julia said, her impatience growing again.  "I really must insist you take me back--"</div> <div>      "Oh, but we cannot," Niamh objected.  "Not while the battle rages."</div> <div>      "Battle?" Julia's voice scaled up.</div> <div>      "Another tiresome invasion by the Tuatha Da Danaan," Eithne explained wearily.  "Since they were defeated by the Milesians and driven here, they have not left us in peace.  So you really did not come with them?  You're not one of us, </div> <div> that is obvious.  You are so different."</div> <div>      "I'm an American," Julia explained, feeling panicky.  She was beginning to remember Maeve's stories and the stories of the shanachie Patrick O'Neill.  The Tuatha Da Danaan--followers of the goddess Anu--one of the conquered ancient tribes of Ireland driven into the faery mounds and into the hills.  The supposed leprechauns of Ireland, Julia thought, shivering. "Where are we?  What is this place?"  She looked around and realized that although the cavern room was dimly lit, it was lavishly furnished and decorated.  Her head spun with the enormity of what she believed had happened.</div> <div>      As if in confirmation, Niamh answered, "We call this Brugh."</div> <div>      In a wondering voice, Eithne guessed, "You must be from Sithein, Julia."  Julia almost laughed aloud from terror, not amusement.  It wasn't so much what Eithne said as it was the way she pronounced the name Julia:  "You must be </div> <div> from shee-ann, Jooolya."</div> <div>      "And what is Sithein?" Julia asked.</div> <div>      "The upper Kingdom," Eithne answered, as if that should have been apparent.</div> <div>      I knew it, Julia thought, groaning to herself in misery.  "This is the Middle </div> <div> Kingdom?"</div> <div>      "Brugh," Niamh agreed.</div> <div>      Oh, Lord, now what?  Julia wondered.  "What of the three men who were with me?  Quentin, Jason, and Barnabas?"</div> <div>      The women exchanged glances again.  "We were able to pull you through before the battle began," Eithne explained.  "We don't know about any others who were with you."</div> <div>      "That's why I must go back," Julia insisted.</div> <div>      "You cannot!" Niamh moved to block her way.  As if I knew where to go, Julia thought with despair.  "Not while the battle rages!  You might be injured or killed!"</div> <div>      "But Quentin is my fiancé!  I am afraid he might be injured or killed!"  Julia wondered, though.  Perhaps Niamh was right--Quentin and Barnabas couldn't be killed under the circumstances.  But would they come here, too?</div> <div>      As if sensing what she might be thinking, Niamh said, "Don't trouble yourself, Julia.  We will look for your--your--what is fee--fee--"</div> <div>      "Fiancé.  We are to be married."</div> <div>      "Ah.  We will look for your man, then.  Please--make yourself comfortable now.  You must eat and have something to drink."  </div> <div>      Julia protested, but her hostesses would not hear of any more objections.  They sat her down to a lavish table, with heaping serving platters of fruit, cheese, and chunks of barbecued meat.  Julia guessed that the meat had been roasted on </div> <div> spits in the fireplace.  There were jugs of whiskey, some kind of fruit juice, and milk.  Julia decided she needed a shot of the whiskey.  Although she began to relax a little, she couldn't help but fret about Quentin's whereabouts and well being.  She was beginning to feel a little sleepy when she heard a man call out, "Niamh!"</div> <div>      "My husband!" Niamh exclaimed.  "Excuse me!" She left the room hurriedly, leaving Julia with the other five women.  They continued to eat, but Julia stopped.</div> <div>      "Eat, eat," Eithne urged.</div> <div>      Julia went through the motions, her eyes fastened firmly on the entryway.  Within a few moments, Niamh was back.  She looked directly at Julia and said, "We have found your man.  He is injured."</div> <div>      Julia jumped up with a cry.</div> <div>      "Don't be alarmed.  There are no injuries that cannot be healed by you--an experienced healer," Niamh reassured her.  You have so much faith, Julia thought.  She would have to see how extensive the injuries were.  She felt a little stunned.  The portrait was supposed to protect Quentin from serious injuries, so perhaps there was nothing to worry about after all...</div> <div>      "We only found one other man who was with you," Niamh began, leading Julia out into a hallway.  She hesitated and then went on, "He is of your people?  Not of the Tuatha Da Danaan?"</div> <div>      Julia couldn't be sure.  Who did they find?  "Is it Jason or Barnabas?"</div> <div>      "He has dark hair and dark eyes.  He wears a long cloak."</div> <div>      Barnabas.  Julia felt frightened.  Gathering her wits she answered calmly, "He is one of my people.  He's not Tuatha Da Danaan."</div> <div>      "The folk are afraid.  They believe he is the Dearg-due."</div> <div>      "Oh?  What is that?"  Julia asked as they hurried along.  She suspected she knew already.</div> <div>      "Red Blood Sucker, that is what the name means in your language."</div> <div>      Julia felt dismayed.  What could she say?  No, Barnabas is not a vampire when he obviously was?  She chose not to say anything.  By then, they'd entered a room and Julia saw Quentin lying sprawled on a makeshift bed. He was unconscious.  "Oh!" she exclaimed, running to his side and kneeling beside him.  </div> <div>      "What happened, Caoimhghin?"</div> <div>      "Nothing," Niamh's husband answered, his voice deep and rumbling.  "He's fainted."</div> <div>      Julia took note of the compound fracture, dismayed.  She also saw that he was bleeding and gently turned his head to the side.  Although he was bleeding heavily, she was relieved to see that the wound was superficial.  Head wounds always bled a lot.  Quentin moaned and stirred.  "I need some hot water, quickly!" She began, thinking rapidly.  "I need some splints--straight pieces of wood about this big."  She held her arms apart to demonstrate.  "Do you have bandages?  I need cloth to bind the splint together!"     </div> <div>      Caoimhghin and Niamh exchanged puzzled looks.  "Why do you need all these things, healer?" Niamh asked.</div> <div>      "Please, just get them!" Julia exclaimed, too exasperated and frightened to explain the purpose of a splint.  She was worried about infection setting in.  She didn't know how long Quentin had been here.  She was vaguely aware that the strangers left.  Quentin stirred again.  Julia was afraid to rouse him.  She didn't know what had happened to her bag; she had no sedatives.  Everything was in the bag.</div> <div>      Quentin continued to stir and moan.  His eyes began to open.  Julia sighed. He was coming around.  "Dearheart," she whispered to him soothingly.  "I'm here."</div> <div>      "Julia?"  Quentin's eyes opened.  He started to sit up again.  "Julia!"</div> <div>      "Sssh, sssh, don't move!"  Julia pushed him back gently.</div> <div>      "I was so scared--I didn't know what happened to you--where are we?"  Quentin's words tumbled out rapidly.</div> <div>      "It's all right, we're safe," Julia soothed.</div> <div>      Quentin looked at her again as if to make sure she was really there.  "My God, Julia, I was so scared that you were--" he broke off, his voice thickening.</div> <div>      "I was afraid for you, too," Julia answered, her eyes filling with tears of relief.  Quentin shifted again and seemed to realize he couldn't move his right arm.  His left hand came up, and she grabbed it between hers, kissing his bloody </div> <div> fingers.</div> <div>      "My arm is broken," Quentin told her.  "I don't know how that could happen."</div> <div>      "Don't worry.  We'll set it.  You have a cut on your head, dearheart.  I looked at it, and it's not so bad.  Very superficial."</div> <div>      "Where the hell are we?" </div> <div>      "We're in the Middle Kingdom."</div> <div> Quentin didn't look as shocked as she thought he would.  He looked resigned.  "Where's fucking Barnabas?"</div> <div>      "I don't know.  I think he's here, but I don't know where."  Julia stopped talking as Niamh and Caoimhghin returned with the things she'd asked for.  She had them set the hot water in front of her and she plunged her hands in, wincing.  It was near boiling.  Niamh's eyes widened with shock.  "All right, we need to set </div> <div> that arm," Julia explained for everyone's benefit.  She couldn't remember the man's name and nodded to him.  "Would you please hold Quentin's shoulders down?  You must keep him down, flat on his back."</div> <div>      "All right, my lady healer," Caoimhghin agreed respectfully, still looking puzzled.</div> <div>      Quentin's eyes had filled with fear.  Julia whispered to him urgently, "I have nothing to give you, my love.  This is going to hurt like hell.  Don't try to be brave.  Scream your head off if you need to."  She leaned down and kissed him, wishing she could spare him this.  She felt him responding and suddenly remembered the whiskey.  She turned to Niamh.  "Would you please go get the jug I was drinking from?"</div> <div>      "Yes, but--" Niamh broke off and obediently left.</div> <div>      "What?" Quentin asked.     </div> <div>      “Whiskey--it's better than nothing," Julia answered.</div> <div>      "Oh, I'll say," he agreed and managed to smile at her.  "Kiss me again, Julia, give me some more courage."</div> <div>           Julia bent down to kiss him, feeling her heart lurch in her chest.  She wondered if she could bear to hurt him.  He opened his mouth to her, completely trusting her. She stroked his hair gently as she kissed him. "Quentin," she said finally, realizing that he was becoming too interested in the kissing.</div> <div>      Niamh and Caoimhghin returned with the whiskey, and he guffawed from the doorway.  "I've never seen that manner of healing, but I would not mind breaking a bone myself for that!" he exclaimed.                    </div> <div>       Julia blushed, reaching for the jug.  She helped raise Quentin's head so that he could take several deep swallows.  Turning to Caoimhghin, she said briskly, "Please keep him from moving-hold his shoulders for me.  Do you think it's possible to give him some more whiskey as I work?"</div> <div>       "Sure I can," Caoimhghin assured her.  "But why do you need--?"</div> <div>            "I just need a few more minutes to get ready," Julia interrupted.  "Would you mind giving him some more?"</div> <div>            "Sure, I will."</div> <div>            Julia moved to look at the injured arm and shuddered inwardly, thinking about what she needed to do.  She got the splints and the cloth strips ready, wishing she had some plaster.  She was not only afraid of hurting him, she was also afraid she wouldn't be able to set the bones properly.  It looked like a simple compound fracture-there didn't seem to be any splinters or fragments anywhere.  If she could have the courage to just do it! She took a deep breath and looked at Quentin, who'd just swallowed some more whiskey, coughing a little as the liquid went down.  "Are you ready, dearheart?"</div> <div>       Quentin wasn't drunk enough to be brave.  "No, but do what you have to do, Julia.  Do it quick, willya?"</div> <div>        Julia took a deep breath, grasped her lover's arm in hers and pulled.  Quentin reared back and screamed in agony.  Julia continued to pull, watching as the broken bone began to move back under the break in his skin.   "Here, here, what manner of healing is this?" Niamh screamed into her ear.  "You're killing him!"</div> <div>      "I am not!" Julia said through gritted teeth.  "I am setting the bone."</div> <div>        "But why that way?  Why must you hurt him so?"                               </div> <div> Julia stopped.  She saw the two strangers staring at her as if she'd lost her mind.  The other women had crowded into the hallway, and beyond those people, Julia could hear more voices buzzing:  "What's going on?"  "What is she doing to the lad?"  "He must be dying?"  </div> <div>      Julia suddenly realized that there was something they expected from her-but she didn't know what it was.</div> <div>      "All right," she said to Niamh.  "Tell me."</div> <div>      "Well, don't you know?" Niamh seemed shocked.  "You just put your hands on him."</div> <div>       The laying on of hands, Julia thought with bitter humor.  On the other hand, this was not her world.  Was it possible?  Would it work for her?  She wasn't of this world.  She looked at Quentin, his face white with pain. Sweat had broken out across his brow, and he was breathing heavily.   He'd grit his teeth in an effort not to cry out again, but she could see tears of suffering standing in his eyes.  "I'll try," she decided.</div> <div> She sat by Quentin and gently moved his broken arm onto her lap.  She put her hands on his arm, closing her eyes and concentrating as hard as she could.  She wasn't sure what it was she was supposed to do and decided to just follow her instincts.  As she moved her fingers along his arm, she felt them encounter the sharp edge of bone.  Her other fingers touched the injured, torn flesh around the bone.  She remembered how the ulna was supposed to look from _Gray's Anatomy_:  whole, straight, within the flesh and muscle of the little finger side of the forearm.  Yes, that was what Quentin's ulna should look like.  She thought she felt heat coursing through her fingers but ignored the sensation, concentrating instead on the whole bone, beneath the flesh; then she thought about the torn, injured area closing and becoming whole again.</div> <div>      "Julia!"  She could hear Quentin calling to her, but she didn't open her eyes just yet.  She ran her fingers along his arm, feeling the warm and smooth flesh-whole now.  She opened her eyes and looked, shocked.                    There was no protruding bone, no torn raw wound.  She was looking at his arm, whole, covered with dark hair and that was all.  She looked up into his eyes and saw awe, gratitude, and love.  Her eyes filled with tears of relief now and she moved to her knees beside him, putting her arms around him.   "Sssh."  Now it was Quentin soothing her, pulling her close with the arm she'd somehow healed.</div> <div>      "I didn't know I could do that!" Julia wept, overcome with relief and the </div> <div> fear she'd been suppressing.</div> <div>      "How is it you heal in Sithein?  By that manner-pulling on a broken limb like that?" Niamh asked incredulously.</div> <div>      "We don't know any other way," Julia admitted, looking up into Niamh's shocked face.  "Can you teach me-your way?"</div> <div>      "No, I can't, my lady," Niamh whispered. "It's something only you can know."</div> <div>      "But how did I?"  Julia asked.  "I'm not from Brugh."                                </div> <div> Niamh and Caoimhghin exchanged glances.  Thoughtfully, Niamh said, "Perhaps in your world you have the skill but didn't have the wherewithal to use it."</div> <div>      "Perhaps you have Tuatha Da Danaan and Firbolg blood after all," Caoimhghin added with a smile. He glanced at Niamh.  "Perhaps she is like Daoirdre."                                </div> <div>      "Tuatha Da Danaan? Firbolg?" Quentin repeated, wondering who Daoirdre was.  "Is that who you are?"  He sounded stunned.  He looked up into Julia's pale, worried face.  They must have gone into some sort of parallel time.  He looked again at the way the couple was dressed.  Had they time traveled as well?  "What year is this?" he asked.</div> <div>      "We are Firbolg, not Tuatha Da Danaan.  We are no longer mortals.  Years mean nothing to us," Niamh replied. "We have seen many seasons pass.  We've seen changes in Sithein.  Once your folk walked, then they rode horses.  Now they ride in roaring machines.  They fly in the air in bird-soaring machines."</div> <div>      "So you've been to our world?"</div> <div>      "Many, many times, my friend."</div> <div>      "So there's a way back?" Quentin asked hopefully.                                </div> <div> "Oh, yes, of course.  It's like a window opening and closing, don't you know."</div> <div>      "Thank God," Quentin muttered, relieved.</div> <div>      "You understand, though, that we're not able to get you back while there's the war on," Caoimhghin explained.</div> <div>      "What war?"</div> <div>      "The Tuatha Da Danaan are invading again," Eithne explained.  "We battle, we ask for a delay and a truce; then we ask for yet another delay and another truce.  Eventually we must battle again.  And again we try for another delay and a truce.  We try to weary them with delays."  She sighed and moved into the room. “We thought that perhaps the Dearg-due brought them here this time."</div> <div>      "The what?" asked Quentin.</div> <div>      "Barnabas," Julia put in quickly.</div> <div>      "Barnabas!"  Quentin exclaimed.  He'd forgotten him-just momentarily.  "Where is he?"</div> <div>      "He is resting," Caoimhghin said, looking uncomfortable.  "As humble and </div> <div> charitable hosts, we've brought him  nourishment."</div> <div>      "Ummm…" Quentin began, flushing, looking toward Julia.                                </div> <div> Julia looked at the couple and at the other people peering in at them curiously.  "May I talk to my man alone?"</div> <div>      "Yes, of course, my lady," Niamh answered immediately.  “You have only to pull the rope here, and someone will come to tend to your needs."  She showed Julia a an embroidered cord, and Julia smiled without humor. She thought it might ring a bell somewhere.  Some things never seemed to change anywhere.  Niamh and her husband left them alone, taking the others with them.</div> <div>      Julia turned toward Quentin, who was grinning with genuine amusement.  He raised his brows.  "Your man?" he repeated, mockingly.                                  </div> <div> "Well, that's what they say," Julia explained, turning a bright red.  Quentin laughed and held his arms out to her.  He was sitting up now, and Julia slid into the comfort of his embrace.  He pulled her onto his lap and held her close.  He kissed her hair, her ear, her throat, her cheek, slowly moving toward her mouth.  "Thank you, Julia," he murmured.  She snuggled closer and kissed him back, grateful to have him back whole and healthy.  She could feel him responding to her, hardening, and so she broke the kiss.                                </div> <div> "We need to talk."</div> <div>      "Later," he murmured, trying to kiss her again.                                "Dearheart, listen, there are things we need to talk about."                                </div> <div> "Mmmhmm," He agreed reluctantly.  "Barnabas."</div> <div>      "Yes, he's here somewhere.  I don't know what kind of shape he's in.  I don't know if coming here has changed anything.  I don't think so, because Niamh thought he was a-dearg-due."  Julia pronounced the word with difficulty.</div> <div>      "What is that?"</div> <div>      "Niamh said in our language-English-it means red blood sucker."                           </div> <div> "Ah," Quentin sighed, understanding.  "Vampire?"</div> <div>      "It would seem so-the danger hasn't passed.  He's here somewhere.  And Jason McGuire--no one seems to know where he is."                                Quentin shivered, remembering the rage on his cousin's face.                    Until recently, he never would have believed Barnabas would have done anything to harm him.  But now-he had to protect not only himself, but Julia, too.  </div> <div> "Jason McGuire's not our problem.  Barnabas is.  Do you feel him, Julia?"</div> <div>      "No," Julia answered in a wondering voice.  She looked at her elbow.  The marks were just faint scars now.  "It may be the serum that's broken our bond or it may be something else."  She paused thoughtfully.                    "Dearheart, if I'd any idea that I could heal by laying my hands on you, I never would have tried to set you arm myself," she began.                                </div> <div> "Oh, I know that!"</div> <div>      Julia looked troubled.  She'd felt heat and power; she remembered it vaguely. She tried to explain what happened.  "I visualized what your arm was supposed to look like, whole and healed.  Somehow, it just happened!  I don't understand how though."</div> <div>      "I don't understand what What's-his-name said about maybe you have a wee drop of Firbolg and Tuatha Da Danaan blood.  Is that possible?"</div> <div>      Julia shrugged, still troubled and puzzled.  "I don't know.  I only traced </div> <div> my ancestors back so far."</div> <div>      Quentin roared suddenly with nervous laughter.  "Julia!  You remember what Patrick O'Neill said about the storytellers being everywhere?  The people of </div> <div> the goddess Anu--well, what if one of them married a Firbolg?  Didn't that ever happen?"</div> <div>      Julia smiled, too.  "Oh, can you imagine the family uproar?"                                They both had a good laugh.  Quentin became serious again first.  A new, disturbing thought had occurred to him.  He felt the back of his head.  Blood was crusted in his hair but it no longer oozed from the cut on his head.  There was a lump there that was sore to the touch.  He winced a little and then looked at Julia nervously.  "Julia?  Why did I get hurt?"                                Julia understood what he was asking but answered evasively,                   "Barnabas threw you pretty hard, dearheart."</div> <div>      "Really?  You think so?" Quentin answered sarcastically, feeling more than a little aggravated.  He needed Julia's help.  He didn't want to hide from the issue.  "Why didn't the portrait protect me?"                            </div> <div> Julia really didn't want to think about that yet.  "I don't know," she answered, a little forlornly.</div> <div>      "Julia, if the portrait doesn't protect me from injury, what's going to happen when-"</div> <div>      She hushed him by covering his mouth with her fingers.  "Ssh, dearheart. We'll be back to Sithein by then."</div> <div>      "Where?"</div> <div>      "Their word for our world.  Their world-here-is called Brugh."                           </div> <div> Quentin sighed.  "Brugh?"  He was thoughtful, brooding.  The next full moon was tomorrow night.  What if they didn't get back before then? Did Brugh have full moons? He wanted to talk about it but realized that Julia was already overwhelmed by everything that had happened.  He pulled her close again, kissing her.  She began to respond and then once again tried to stop.  "Julia, I need you. We've having an awfully bad scare.  Comfort me." He whispered into her ear yearningly.</div> <div>      "But the Firbolg," Julia protested.</div> <div>      "You haven't pulled the cord yet," he said softly, persuasively.  "Julia!"             He bent his head to kiss her again, cradling her in his arms.  This time she didn't try to stop him, even when she felt his hands expertly removing her clothes.  She found herself helping him remove his own clothes, wanting to give herself to him so they could bring what comfort they could to each other.</div> <div>      After some time had passed, Julia heard Quentin's stomach rumble.  "You're hungry!" she laughed, rubbing his bare chest.</div> <div>      "Well, yes, but I didn't want to say anything because I was feeling so good having you lying with me," Quentin answered, pulling her closer to him.  The bed seemed very narrow with both of them squeezed onto it.  "This is so much like a bad dream, but when we were together then it felt real and it felt right.  I just wish it still felt like that."</div> <div>      Julia laughed again.  She understood.  For a little while, they were the only two people in the world that mattered, and everything was perfect.  "We can't make love 24 hours a day, though."</div> <div>      "No," he answered ruefully and then laughed too.  "Besides, I'm really hungry.  What do you think they've got to eat around here?"</div> <div>      "Oh, I think you'll find something you like," Julia assured him.  "We'd better dress, don't you think?  They may be back to check on us."  She sat up, and Quentin released her reluctantly.</div> <div>      As she began to dress, Quentin raised himself on his elbow to look at her.  "I don't know, Julia, I think they'll wait for us to pull the cord."  Julia looked at him, wondering what made him think so.  As if reading her mind, he answered, "I get the feeling these people are simple--and I don't mean stupid.  I mean, I think that they're in touch with nature and natural things--like with the healing they were talking about.  And I think they'd just assume we'd want to be together and they're giving us the space to be together."</div> <div>      Julia considered.  "You may be right, dearheart.  If that's the case, so much the better for us--while we're here."  Quentin winked and leered at her good-naturedly.   Julia laughed again.</div> <div>      "I love that sound," Quentin said.  He sat up now, looking around for his clothes.</div> <div>      "You do make me happy, Quentin.  I do love you so," Julia declared with a great deal of feeling.  He looked up at her and smiled.  "I was so worried about you--"</div> <div>      "And I was scared for you," he answered softly.  "We'll be all right, Julia.  I won't let anything happen to you here, either.  We'll get out of here, all right, don't worry."  Julia smiled and nodded.  Quentin stood up and pulled the zipper up on his pants.  "By the way, I love you too.  Did I tell you that today?"</div> <div>      "Over and over."  Julia's eyes were dancing as she pulled the cord.  She and Quentin were sitting discreetly apart when Niamh reappeared, a pleasant smile on her face.  Julia noticed the ring of gold on Niamh's finger.  "Oh, a Claddagh ring!" she exclaimed.</div> <div>      "You know this?"  Niamh seemed delighted, showing the ring off.  It was a simple band with two hands holding a heart that was covered with a crown.  "Are you hungry?  I've come to take you to the center fire of the bruidne."</div> <div> "Yes, we are hungry," Julia replied, taking Niamh's hand to look at the ring closely.  "I've always wondered about the history of this ring.  It's really very ancient then, isn't it?"</div> <div>      "I wouldn't think folk would wonder of such things in Sithein," Niamh marveled.</div> <div>      "It helps us keep our mind off our troubles in places like Vietnam and Northern Ireland," Quentin said dryly.  Julia gave him a disapproving look and shook her head.</div> <div>      "Yes?" Niamh obviously didn't understand and wasn't going to ask.  Looking at her ring, she explained softly:  "Truthfully, this is of the Tuath Da Danaan.  It is beautiful, though, and I wanted it for myself.  I believe in its meaning."  She looked at Julia and Quentin, and then used her free hand to indicate the different parts of the ring.  "The father god of the Tuath Da Danaan is called Dagda.  He was so powerful, he was able to make the sun stand still.  There was a goddess he lusted after, and so he did make the sun stop in the sky, making the day and night stretch into nine lunar cycles.  During that time, he mated with his goddess over and over."  Niamh looked at Julia and Quentin again, this time with a cunning kind of knowledge and understanding.  Julia blushed.</div> <div>      "What happened to him?" Quentin asked, putting his arm around Julia and taking a closer look at the ring.</div> <div>      "The goddess bore him a son and his power increased.  See--the right hand that holds the heart.  That represents Dagda.  The mother god is Anu.  She is the left hand that holds the heart.  The crown is Beathauile.  I am sorry, but I cannot tell you anything about that.  I still have much to learn about the Tuath Da Danaan."</div> <div>      "Really?  Are you attempting to learn about them?"</div> <div>      "Yes--I have a half sister who is half Tuath Da Danaan, Daoirdre."</div> <div>      "How did that happen if you are enemies?"  Julia and Quentin exchanged looks.  They'd only just been discussing just such a possibility!</div> <div>      "During one of our infinite number of clashes, a Tuath Da Danaan princess was captured.  My father was taken with her.  My mother had already passed into the faery region of Ulster."  Quentin and Julia understood her to mean that her mother was dead.  "And so he bedded her and kept her by his side.  She bore Daoirdre in due time.  She was a wise woman--a healer like you, Julia."</div> <div>      "Was?"</div> <div>      "Yes.  A few seasons ago, during another of our interminable clashes, she attempted to return to her people and was killed accidentally."</div> <div>      "Oh!  I'm sorry!" Julia exclaimed with genuine sympathy.</div> <div>      "Daoirdre is a natural healer and a seer as well," Naimh went on, with a tone of admiration and love in her voice.  "She is beautiful.  You will meet her.  She has an instinctive knowledge of magick and of the ways of the Tuath Da Danaan although she has never been with them.  It was she who explained the ring to me.  It belonged to her mother."</div> <div>      "You don't sound as if you approve of this factional fighting between your people and your half-sister's," Quentin commented.</div> <div>      "That's right," Niamh agreed.  "This heart represents the hearts of all of mankind.  Not just the Tuath Da Danaan, but also the Firbolg and the Milesian and even you, from Sithein.  If we share one heart, we should not be killing each other, then?"</div> <div>      Caoimhghin appeared in the doorway.  "I wondered what was delaying you," he said in a somewhat complaining tone.  He looked toward Quentin.  "Your kinsman asks about you."</div> <div> Quentin felt himself go cold all over.  "Yes?"</div> <div>      "He requests to see you after we have dined."</div> <div>      Quentin looked at Julia, seeing her eyes widen with apprehension.  "If I refuse?"</div> <div>      "Refuse your kinsman?"  Caoimhghin sounded alarmed.  "You mentioned that is was he who attacked you.  Will your refusal anger the red blood sucker?"</div> <div>      "I don't know," Quentin answered honestly.  He could see that both Caoimhghin and Niamh were afraid.  If he refused to see Barnabas and his cousin threatened or injured these people, he would feel responsible.  He looked at Julia.  "May I see my cousin now--alone?"</div> <div>      "Quentin!" Julia exclaimed.  </div> <div>      He turned to her with a quieting motion.  "Julia, please!  Maybe he's different here!"</div> <div>      "If that is your desire," Caoimhghin said.</div> <div>      It's not, Quentin thought, but I'd better do it.  "It is," he said.  When Julia began to protest again, he took her into his arms and kissed her.  "Julia, go with them and get something to eat.  I won't talk to Barnabas long.  I just want to see what his frame of mind is."</div> <div>      "Quentin, you have no protection against him!"  Julia protested.</div> <div>      "I have your love," he answered and grinned, knowing how sentimentally foolish that sounded.  Julia grimaced, so he kissed her again.  He turned her toward Niamh.  She turned back toward him, reluctant to leave.  "Julia, please go with Niamh."  When the two women had gone, Quentin sighed and looked at Caoimhghin.  "Well, lead on, my friend."</div> <bR> <div>      Caoimhghin took Quentin down what appeared to be a corridor to a sumptuously spacious and comfortable chamber.  Caoimhghin announced himself and entered but stopped abruptly, and Quentin collided with him.  "Daoirdre!  What are you doing here?"  Caoimhghin sounded shocked and dismayed, with a good measure of fear thrown in.</div> <div>      "Offering hospitality to our guest," Daoirdre replied, in a soft, sweet voice.  </div> <div> Quentin looked around Caoimhghin's bulky body to see what beauty possessed such a voice, and his eyes popped.  It can't be!  He thought to himself.  Yet--they had seen Jason McGuire and had somehow managed to get to this place called the Middle Kingdom.  Anything was possible at this point--even the presence of Roxanne Drew!</div> <div>      There was no mistaking the resemblance.  If anything, she seemed younger.  Her red hair was long, flowing over her shoulders and down her back.  Quentin could see a wave in her hair, indicating that she usually pulled it back; </div> <div> although she appeared to be about sixteen, she had an adult expression of sensuous satisfaction on her face.  Barnabas reclined nearby, watching them all coolly.  This was Quentin's first good look at his cousin in a long time, and he tried to read his expression.  Barnabas' features were completely impassive.</div> <div>      Suddenly, they made eye contact.  Barnabas' eyes were as flat and cold as obsidian.  "Quentin," he said in a very charming voice that did not extend to his eyes.  "I am delighted to see you.  Caoimhghin told you that I wished to see you and Julia?"</div> <div>      "I did, my lord," Caoimhghin answered in a subservient tone.  Quentin wanted to kick him.</div> <div>      "You may take your leave, Caoimhghin.  We will all join you shortly."  Barnabas said dismissively, and the large man bowed and took his leave.  Barnabas waved his hand languidly toward a wooden chair.  "Sit down, please, </div> <div> Quentin."</div> <div>      Quentin was rattled by the scrutiny of the other two, staring at him as he walked to the chair and sat down.  He couldn't get over how much Daoirdre resembled Roxanne.  Of course Barnabas must have noticed the similarity.  Of course he must have taken advantage of that similarity--or had he?</div> <div>      "What are you staring at, cousin?" Barnabas snapped irritably.  "Where is Julia?"</div> <div>      Quentin was determined not to let Barnabas know that he was frightened.  "She's joined the others at the central fire.  She was hungry."</div> <div>      "Naturally.  It's quite late, and you haven't had your supper, have you?  I am sure you are hungry yourself, aren't you?"</div> <div>      "Yes, but I wanted to come and see how you were feeling first, dear Cousin," Quentin answered with just a touch of sarcastic irony in his voice.</div> <div>      "As you can see, I am quite well.  My needs have been attended to."</div> <div>      "Ah.  Your needs?"</div> <div>      Barnabas' eyes bored into Quentin's.  "I am as I was, Quentin."  He turned to Daoirdre.  He took her hand into his and brought it to his lips, kissing it.  "My dear, please go and join your family at the bruiden.  Quentin and I will be along very shortly."</div> <div>      "Of course, my lord," Daoirdre answered, looking at Barnabas with soulful worship in her eyes.  She got up and left the room without a backward glance.</div> <div>      Barnabas looked at Quentin again.  "What are you staring at me for?"</div> <div>      "That was disgusting," Quentin declared.  “You've taken that young girl for yourself, haven't you?"</div> <div>      "And what if I have, dear cousin?  Would you prefer that I come to Julia?  I could have, you know, at any time while you lay unconscious.  Or conscious, too, for that matter," Barnabas answered coldly.  "As for Daoirdre's age, she is not the child she seems.  These people are ageless.  I suppose you haven't had much time to get acquainted with them?  You've been keeping yourself otherwise occupied?"</div> <div>      Quentin flushed, and Barnabas laughed at him.  "Look, Barnabas, I agreed to see you because I don't want any more trouble between us--"</div> <div>      Barnabas leaned forward abruptly, effectively silencing Quentin in mid-sentence.  "No!  You came because I commanded it and because you were afraid not to!  That is the truth and we both know it.  Whatever else lies between us, let there at least be truth."</div> <div>      "I just want you to leave us alone."</div> <div>      "Don't whine, Quentin.  That has no effect on me."</div> <div>      Now Quentin darkened with fury.  "I was not whining!" he protested, and Barnabas laughed again.  "Barnabas, I warn you--"</div> <div>      In an instant, Barnabas was up and across the room, dragging his cousin upright.  "Let that be the last time you make that mistake, dear cousin!" Barnabas snarled into Quentin's face, eyes and teeth gleaming redly.  "You do not warn me.  You have no power here, and you will not stop me if I don't wish to be stopped."  He pushed Quentin back down on the chair roughly, his fists clenching menacingly.  "Do you know that the people here are terrified of me?  Do you know what they call me?"</div> <div>      "They know you're a vampire," Quentin mumbled, resentful and frightened.</div> <div>      "Not just a vampire, dear cousin, but a dearg-due--a most dreadful creature.  Do you know what happened after they carried you off?  The Firbolg were most respectful and attentive hosts, Quentin.  They drained some of their captives and brought me pitchers of blood to drink at my leisure.  And I have been--all evening."  When Quentin grimaced with disgust, Barnabas laughed sharply, forcibly turning his face so that they were looking at each other again.  "Daoirdre offered herself to me.  She doesn't believe that I am the dreaded dearg-due--she thinks that more likely, I am an incubus.  Do you know what that is?"</div> <div>      "No," Quentin answered shortly.  He thought he did but wasn't sure.</div> <div>      "Well, let me enlighten you then!"  Barnabas sounded exultant.  "Perhaps you will feel a little more gratitude to me.  I have my virility in this world."</div> <div>      "Aren't you the lucky one.  And a little bite to bring everything to a climax, I suppose?"  Quentin threw his arm up and turned his head to protect his face, but Barnabas controlled himself admirably.  He opened and closed his fists several times, quivering with rage.  Idiot, Quentin castigated himself.  The last thing he needed to do was further antagonize his cousin.  "I'm sorry," he muttered.</div> <div>      "That's better," he heard Barnabas answer angrily.</div> <div>      "Are you happy with Daoirdre?"  Quentin asked, a little hopefully.</div> <div>      "Julia is my soul," Barnabas whispered turning away, and Quentin felt his little flickering flame of hope die out.  He turned back to Quentin.  "Tell me the truth--do you love her?"</div> <div>      "Yes," Quentin answered stoutly.</div> <div>      "I know you, cousin.  You are as faithful as a tomcat."  Quentin flushed again, but Barnabas continued, "An older woman can provide a great deal of amusement and entertainment for a young man like you.   I understand."</div> <div>      "You do?"</div> <div>      "Of course I do.  I had Laura."  Barnabas had a far-away look in his eyes as he spoke.  "She was much older than I, and very passionate.  My uncle Jeremiah never suspected the innocent visits between Laura and myself.  She was tutoring me in French, and it did begin that way.  It became an excuse."  Barnabas stopped </div> <div> reminiscing.  "Yes, I do understand how it is with an older woman and a young man." He turned back toward Quentin with a menacing look on his face.  "But this is not some supernatural evil creature we're discussing here.  This is Julia, Quentin!"</div> <div>      "Yes, and I'm not a schoolboy with an adolescent crush, either, Barnabas," Quentin pointed out.</div> <div>      "I don't know if I'd completely agree with that.  You are spoiled, self-centered, selfish--"</div> <div>      "You really believe that about me?" Quentin broke in.  "You don't think I've matured at all, do you?  But then, do you really know me at all, Barnabas?  Have you taken the trouble to talk to me since I've come to Collinwood?  No!  You've been obsessed with first one thing and then another.  You've never once asked me where I've been all these years or what I've been doing or expressed any remote interest in me at all."  As the truth of this sank in on both of them, Quentin began to wonder if Barnabas cared about him at all.  "I never stopped loving you, Barnabas.  When did you stop caring about me?  After I left for New York?"</div> <div>      Barnabas opened his mouth to reply angrily and then abruptly stopped short.  He turned away.  "I do care, Quentin.  You are my cousin."     </div> <div> "Duty calls," Quentin said softly.  They looked at each other steadily and then Barnabas looked away.  "I don't know if telling you this again will make any difference to you, Barnabas, but I'm not the selfish brat you knew in 1897.  I've </div> <div> grown up--at least a little bit.  I know just how special Julia is--believe me, I know.  She's done more to help me than--" He almost said 'than you have' but stopped himself.  "She's been my best friend."  Barnabas gave him a wounded look, but he went on.  "She's accepted me the way I am--I feel more comfortable with her than I've ever felt with anyone in my life except for Beth.  I love her, Barnabas."</div> <div>      "I see," Barnabas answered, at least acknowledging that he'd heard Quentin.  At least I have that, he thought.  He looked up as Barnabas continued, "We are in a quandary.  I love her too.  I don't want to let her go."</div> <div>      Quentin shrugged.  "Kill me then.  Take her for yourself."</div> <div>      Barnabas made an irritated noise of disgust.  "Kill you!  I will not!"</div> <div>      "You came pretty close."</div> <div>      "Perhaps I will again.  I was very angry with you for running off with her."</div> <div>      "I didn't hold a gun to her head, Barnabas."</div> <div>      Barnabas' eyes gleamed redly again.  Quentin was frightened again.  Barnabas turned away, visibly struggling to control himself.  When he turned back, his eyes were the normal warm brown they usually were.  "Let us call a truce for the moment," Barnabas offered.  "We need to help each other out of this.  Do you agree?"</div> <div>      "All right," Quentin agreed cautiously.  "You won't try to hurt Julia?"</div> <div>      "God above, no!" Barnabas swore.</div> <div>      "You did bite her."</div> <div>      "I won't again, I swear.  And for your part, you won't turn Julia against me?"</div> <div>      "I swear," Quentin promised, thinking that Barnabas was doing a fine job of it by himself.  Barnabas held his hand out and Quentin tentatively took it, wincing slightly at the icy coldness of his cousin's hand.  He thought it must be like the ice wall he felt around his heart against his cousin now.  He was sure that Barnabas did not love him, didn't even care for him as a friend and tolerated him only because he was a family member.  He was surprised at how much it hurt.</div> <div>      "Let's join the others now," Barnabas suggested.  He was in much better spirits.</div> <div>      "Sure," Quentin agreed.  On the other hand, Quentin felt depressed.  "By the way, what about Jason McGuire?"</div> <div>      "What about him?"</div> <div>      "Do you know where he is?"</div> <div>      "I don't know or care where he is.  He is totally insignificant to what is going on here.  He doesn't worry me," Barnabas said with a blustery kind of air, leading the way out of his chambers and to the bruiden.  They could hear the sounds of many voices talking.  Some were singing.</div> <div>      A great cauldron sat in the middle of a huge dining room.  Quentin looked for Julia, found her, and went to her side immediately.  Julia looked into his pale, strained face and knew that he was upset.  She took his hand as he sat down next to her.  "A truce--we've got a truce, Julia.  He won't bother us.  He swore," Quentin spoke into her ear so that she would hear him above the singing and the babble of the voices.</div> <div>      Julia nodded that she understood.  She saw that Barnabas made his way to a place of honor at one of the tables and seated himself beside Daoirdre.  Julia noted the girl's long red hair; they were the only women in the room with red hair and so she guessed this was Niamh's half-sister.  She could also see the resemblance to Roxanne Drew.  She realized that in spite of his seatmate, Barnabas had turned toward her and was looking at her with a yearning expression he'd only reserved for Vicki, Maggie, and Roxanne in the past.</div> <div>      Feeling slightly unnerved, Julia turned toward Quentin.  His face was still pale and unhappy.  "Dearheart," she whispered.  He looked at her, his eyes stricken.  Wondering what it was that had upset him, she leaned over to kiss him.  She felt his arms go around her immediately.  He didn't kiss her back passionately but he was hugging her hard, as if in gratitude for something.</div> <div>      "Julia, I do love you," he whispered into her ear.  "You really love me, don't you?"</div> <div>      "With all my heart," she answered, thinking she'd get him to talk about what had happened when they returned to their chamber.  "Here.  Try this."  She picked up a chunk of the grilled meat and fed it to him.  As the juices dripped down his chin, he finally smiled.  Relieved, Julia got another piece of meat and some cheese.  As she did so, she looked toward Barnabas again.  He was gone.</div> <bR> <DIV ALIGN="LEFT"></DIV> <div> <A HREF="id25.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="1: Surprise Encounter"><U>1:  Surprise Encounter</U></A>  <A HREF="id26.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="2: A Proscribed Venerable Love"><U>2:  A Proscribed Venerable Love</U></A>  <A HREF="id27.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="3: Stalked by the Vampire"><U>3:  Stalked by the Vampire</U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id28.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="4: Flight to the Auld Country"><U>4:  Flight to the Auld Country</U></A>  <A HREF="id29.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="5: Ally From Nowhere"><U>5:  Ally From Nowhere</U></A>  <A HREF="id30.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="6: Tales of Pookahs and the Sidhe Peopl"><U>6:  Tales of Pookahs and the Sidhe People</U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id32.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="8: My Lady Healer"><U>8:  My Lady Healer</U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="index.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Cassies Writing"><U>Cassie's Writing</U></A></div> </td> </tr></table></body>