The next time Brighid opened her eyes, she was watching as Finegas waded out of waist-high waters. He wore nothing, and she quickly averted her eyes. "Oh! Sorry, I wasn't expecting company," Finegas said. "You may look now."

She looked, and quickly looked away again, listening to his full, hearty laugh. "Disrespectful oaf," she growled, turning away. "Who do you think I am?"

"I don't know who you are, but you're awful pretty."

Brighid sighed, listening to the rustle of fabric. When the quiet noise subsided, she looked again. He wore a towel around his waist, and grinned at her. "Well, you should remember me," she began.

"I promise you, from now on, I will."

"You should remember me because we were just speaking at MacCallan Castle."

"Hm," he started, "Sorry, I've never been there."

"I guess you haven't. But another part of you has."

"Am I missing something?"

"Yeah. Fifty percent of your soul, Finegas."

He sobered quickly, and blinked at her. "What, uh, what are you talking about?"

She smiled sadly at him. "My name is Brighid; I'm a High Shaman. You are shattered inside, and I can help you."

Then his eyes darted over her shoulder, and he stiffened. "Why is she here?"

"Who?"

"Arianrhod."

Brighid whirled around, looking at the ghostly form of her sister-in-law. Her arms were crossed as she came walking out of the shadowed forest. Brighid looked quickly back at Finegas.

"Don't lie to me, High Shaman," Finegas insisted. "What is she doing in the Spirit Realm?"

"I'm dead, Finn."

"No!" he whispered, "You can't be!" His eyes shot to Brighid's. "Is she?"

Brighid's hand tightened around her stone. She opened her mouth. And closed it.

Arianrhod's words were laden with abhorrence, and her voice echoed tauntingly around them. "It all started with Elphame. She married a monster. She gave birth to a monster."

Brighid whirled to scold her, but she had already vanished. She faced Finegas, afraid he had vanished, too. There he stood, looking more broken than ever.

Then he stood up straight and narrowed his eyes. When he spoke he sounded very much like the man of reality. "So this is what Epona had in store for me. If I choose to stay, I die. And if I choose life, I slaughter Elphame's daughter?"

"Finegas - "

"How dare you!" he spat. "I was doing just fine until you showed up."

"You were living an illusion. This is actually my dream."

"You fantasize about the misery of others? You're sick!"

"Wait, no, I…that's…" Brighid floundered, watching him walk away. Then he retraced his steps and sat down on the nearby log with a heavy sigh. "That is incorrect," she said kindly. "Finegas, in the waking world, you gave me permission to speak to this fifty percent of your shattered soul."

"Well, when you wake up," he growled. "Tell me you failed."

Brighid's hooves were loud as she clopped over to him. "If you come with me, you will have your father and your brother. You can meet Cuchulainn's daughter, you can pledge allegiance to Clan MacCallan; but if you stay here, you will be alone forever. And you will never again have the moments that make life worth living!"

He didn't raise his head as he replied, "I also won't know the horrible moments that make it cruel."

Again, Brighid folded her legs to level their eyes. "Everyone has a good and bad day."

"Bad?" he yelled. "That's it? Shows what you know about losing your mom and a sibling so close together!"

"I did."

He paused, staring at her.

She leaned closer, speaking intensely. "Listen, you. You are not the only son of Midhir who lost two people this week."

He was quiet, staring at her. She felt forced to keep talking. "Cuchulainn already suffered a shattered soul when Brenna died. I managed to piece him together, but the cracks are still there."

"Really?" he asked quietly.

"Really. He couldn't bear losing you, too. Could you do that to him?"

He couldn't look away from her eyes. They reminded him of a field bursting with flowers. "No," he said resolutely. "No, I couldn't."

Then he smiled at her. "So Cuchulainn has a daughter, huh? Which simple-minded maiden was actually foolish enough to fall for those lines?"

"You're looking at her."

He cringed in mortification. "My sincerest apologies, High Shaman."

"Brighid. And don't worry. You're not far off." She smiled as he blushed. "So, am I bringing you home now?"

"Yes, but…I don't know the way."

"It's okay. I got directions from my last soul retrieval." She stood, pulling Finegas to his feet. "When your brother entered the Upperworld with me, he followed the beat of my heart. I imagine it's the same way to get down."

Recognizing her friendly advance as an impending hug, he raised his arms and they pressed their bodies against each other. Brighid held him tightly, noticing the sudden phantom feeling of her soul-catching stone in her hand. The same hand that held it in the waking world.

"Are those drums?" Finegas asked, as they clung to each other.

"That is my heart."

His grip tightened on her. Brighid closed her eyes, realizing that it was her dream. All she had to do was wake up. And like a Huntress, she followed the sound of her heartbeat.

An orange light against her eyelids made her stir. She opened her eyes, and started sitting up at the exact same time Finegas began sitting up. Their eyes awkwardly locked and they looked away, each catching sight of the observing Cuchulainn.

Cuchulainn nodded in acknowledgment. "Welcome back, brother."

"Thanks." He looked at Brighid, who still shared his bed. "And thank you, Brighid. Very much."

"How do you feel?"

He raised his eyes to her. "Awful."

Cuchulainn cleared his throat. "I think I may know why," he said, and they looked at him. "Your soul is better, Finegas, but something's wrong."

"What do you mean?"

"You're not whole yet. I think…there's more."

"More!" Brighid exclaimed.

"How much more?"

Cuchulainn looked disturbed as he examined his brother's well-being. "Two more pieces."

Brighid sighed. "We'll eat and drink to ground ourselves, and then I guess we better keep at it."