Brenna clicked her tongue impatiently as she looked through the mortal’s things. He would make an entertaining plaything, this Connor. He seemed congenial and flexible, but he had a strong will in him, this one. It would be great fun breaking that will, watching him crumble in weakness. They all crumbled, eventually. They all crawled, begging and pathetic, to her.

She stroked the inky black beads of her ebony necklace. Each piece represented a human man whose will she had captured, a traill. Many of the baobh sidhe kept such trinkets to display the number of slaves they’d made over the centuries, but few had such a collection as Brenna. Her beaded necklace was a lengthy rope, looped and wrapped around her slender neck many times, and hanging in loops from her white throat to her narrow waist.

This one would be an easy mark. He had no woman of his own, merely toys of his own that passed through his life. It would serve a justice of a sort, to enthrall and use him. He was of the wretched White King, more’s the pity, but his connection to the throne was weak at best. His frumpy, self-righteous guardian treoraich would do nothing without being given orders and power from above, and Brenna was shrewd enough to make sure that the man did not realize he needed help until it was too late. She had done this many times before. His fealty to the King was weak, and his appetites were strong. Brenna did not fear that he would prove especially difficult to capture.

If anything, the mortal’s status made him a more attractive prize. Her prince Urien would be pleased if she could present him with a Child of the White King, crippled and bound. Urien was a rather minor prince, as his region did not include any great metropolises with their rows of polishes silver towers. A few minor cities, and great expanses of rural towns was his claim. Therefore, his pride compelled him to push his subjects harder to enthrall and enslave, to raid and to wreck what they could.

She reached into her robe and extracted a small, silver bell. It was covered with light carvings, ancient words worked all over the surface of it, spells and incantations in verse. She rang the bell lightly and returned it to her robe. Instantly a great black dog appeared, panting and snorting at her ankles, his teeth bared and his coal-black eyes expressionless.

“Hound. This is your task. Follow the man to whom this garment belongs. Note when he comes near a bastion of the White King. Do what you will to prevent his seeking aid or making contact with the servants of the King. I would have this man cornered and cut off. If he has any Brethren in the King’s service, we must break their fellowship. If you alone are not up to the task, I will call others.”

At the last statement, the Hound growled deeply. He knew his work. He would not fail. He huffed his broad black nose at the shirt the baobh sidhe held out to him. Its smell rankled his nose; a Child of the White King. Never matter. Whatever his allegiance, the hound would pursue him as instructed. It was hardly the first time he’d been called to run a White Child to ground for the baobh sidhe. It would not likely be the last. He turned and bounded out of the apartment, the sent fresh in his nose and his mission sharp in his mind.

*****

“This is sad. Really, truly sad.”

Alycen stared into her closet. Basic did not begin to describe the Spartan condition of her wardrobe. She had never been much of a clotheshorse. And with the store doing so well lately, she had certainly not had the time to go shopping for her nonexistent social life. There was absolutely nothing here for her date Friday. Frumpy sweaters and worn out blue jeans.

She would have to go shopping before work tomorrow. Since the store didn’t open till eleven, that gave her a bit of time to go into town and see if she could find something suitable.

Over her shoulder, Taog sighed. He knew his little Alycen. For all her wandering thoughts about purchasing new clothing for her meeting with Ciara’s Connor, when she found her way to the store tomorrow the same thing would happen that always happened when she went clothes shopping. She would fret at the price tags, worry over the styles, and end up picking out more nondescript, bland clothing exactly like the things she already had.

This would never do. Perhaps if this meeting with Connor were occurring under other circumstances, her usual attire would be fine. In his humble opinion, his Alycen’s beauty needed no adornment. She was a radiant, glowing jewel, filled with light. But Taog knew the ways of Man were not the ways of the sidhe. And this man had attracted a baobh sidhe. A teachdaire had brought word from Ciara just a few moments ago. She had spotted the Dark Sidhe crossing in the earthly plane at Connor’s home. There was not much time. His dear, sweet Alycen did not have to compete with mere mortal women, but the wiles of the baobh.

He would need to make more direct contact with his oileanach soon. But before he did so, he wanted her to have one more plain meet with this Connor, to better gauge her interest in the man. Taking on a dark one in battle was not something to be considered lightly. He wanted to be sure that she decided on her own, with no influence save that of her own heart, whether the man was worth it.

However, that still left the problem of her clothing. Left to her own devices, his charge would make a mess of things. She needed help. A Child of Earth gifted in such things as proper raiment. Suddenly a bright smile lit Taog’s round face. He knew exactly the person who was required. All he had to do was bridge the void and nudge his little “helper” in the right direction. This had been a tiring day, and it was certainly not yet over. But Taog felt more excited and full of energy than he had felt in years. It was all beginning. Regardless of what happened Friday night, there could be no question. He had waited long enough. It was time for Alycen to decide once and for all if she was going to go the way of her kin, or follow her birthright and learn the ways of the fianuis.

*****

Barbie Jean sat at the salon, impatiently flipping through magazines as she waited for her favorite stylist to finish up with the woman ahead of her. At first, she did not take much notice of the portly gentleman who sat beside down her, till he reached out and grabbed one of the hunting and fishing magazine’s that the salon kept around for their male customers. He had truly lovely hands. Barbie always noticed people’s hands. This man’s hands were very graceful in the way they moved. His fingernails were perfectly neatly trimmed. He was wearing a blue flannel suit, and a silver tie, and had neatly trimmed silver hair. A pair of wire rimmed glasses sat perched on his nose in front of merry, bright blue eyes. He smiled at Barbie. Ordinarily, she felt suspicious of any man that smiled at her; however, this man had an air of sweetness and innocence about him that was nearly tangible.

“Good evening,” he said, cheerfully. “Lovely day isn’t it?”

“Yes, it’s been very nice.” Barbie replied, amused at the man’s enthusiasm for the weather.

“You know, days like this always make me think of my older sister. She was the one who taught me how to drive. She was quite a bit older than me, and she would take me out on some old back roads and let me practice driving her car when the weather was nice.”

“Mmm,” said Barbie, trying to get back to reading her magazine.

“Yes, come to think of it, I haven’t spoken to my older sister in quite some time. Funny how we lose track and lose touch with our family, isn’t it?
Barbie looked up at the man. It was strange that he should mention his older sister. She had not spoken to her own older sister, Alycen, in months. Like this man’s older sister, Alycen had helped to teach her how to drive when she was younger. She wondered what Aly was up to lately. No one heard much from Alycen since she opened her little bookstore on the square in town. She was so busy, she hardly had time to tie her own shoes, much less visit with the family. It was a shame. And she was sure the girl wasn’t getting out as much as she should. Alycen was a bit of a hermit if left to her own devices. Barbie was the exact opposite: a social butterfly if there ever was one.

“Yes, it is funny. I have an older sister myself.” Barbie looked up from her magazine, and to her surprise, the older man was gone. But she was left with the nagging feeling that she needed to call her sister. She pulled her cellular phone out of her purse and started dialing Alycen’s number. At this hour, she would be home. Perhaps they could get together soon and do a little shopping. Which was an odd thought to pop into her head. Alycen hated shopping.

As Barbie pressed “Send” on her cellular phone, Taog smiled and left the salon. If anyone could convince Alycen to step out on a limb and dress a bit more adventuresome, it would be her baby sister. The woman owned more shoes than some South American countries. The phrase “Shop till you Drop” was invented for the petite redhead. Fortunately, both she and her husband made a living that matched her tastes. She would see to it that her sister was prepared for her date. Taog was very tired. Crossing the void required a great deal of energy. He decided to return home to Alycen and make sure that she took Barbie up on her offer of a day of shopping. It would not kill her to close the shop for a day. But it would require a lot of whispering and quiet assurances on Taog’s part. Ah well, it seemed his work this day was not over yet.