He’s awake. Amergin heard the voice in his mind. The face withdrew into the gray blur. Amergin mac Mil, came a deeper voice. I am most surprised to see you again. And little has surprised me for centuries. The wizard raised his head once more and tried to focus. Off in the gloom, he could make out, with difficulty, a seated figure. “Finnvarr?” he croaked. Aye, Finnbheara, Lord of the Sidhe, came a lighter voice, high and proud in Amergin’s head. A figure broke free of the shadows and came toward him. The clicking of footsteps echoed off unseen walls. A pale face framed in dark hair loomed into his field of vision. You look tired, old man. “And the Lady Una.” Amergin sighed. “Lovely as ever.” Amergin, old friend, continued the voice of the Lord of the Sidhe. Leaving aside the riddle of how you come to be here, alive, so many long years after you stole my country and butchered my people— “Ah,” said Amergin, “you remembered.” You may be able to help us with another puzzle.
