A/N: Back again. :) Since folks seemed interested in getting some details on Hidenori's comeuppance, I decided to elaborate of just what entertains a púca. And, thus, the chapter became even longer... Ho hum -- I'm my own worst critic and I've got to say, I almost revamped the whole thing. Here's hoping you like it.

Brief Irish lesson: Gleann na Choirthe (glan na khor-he), or 'valley of the pillar stone' is a real place now known as Glencar; Faite romhat (fal-chay row-at) means 'You're welcome'; a chuisle mo chroí is pronounced 'ah khush-la mo khree'. I'll elaborate on the meaning later. ;) Oh, and Sorcha is pronounced 'sor-eh-kha'.

Disclaimer: The characters of the anime InuYasha are the property of Takahashi Rumiko/Shogakukan and Yomiuri TV Sunrise 2000. I do lay claim, however, to Aine and Lon. And, Kakusamaru.


Chapter Twelve: A Wild Ride and A Morning Hunt

Hidenori stared in disbelief at the horse which had just ambled into the moonlit field before him. Convinced he was seeing things, the man slowly set down his bowl of sake and then shook his head in an attempt to focus his muddled thoughts. But, when he again looked up, the scene before him had not changed... and a gleam born of greed touched his bloodshot eyes. Judging by the tack on the black horse, it must have belonged a samurai; despite his drunken state, the calculating Hidenori quickly saw the opportunities the animal represented.

Mine... mine to sell, he thought. Or, he would be rewarded for returning it to its owner if the soldiers reappeared in the valley. Either way, there was money to be made.

He moved cautiously toward the animal. Even though he couldn't see its eyes, hidden as they were within the shadows of its thick forelock, he assumed it was watching him and he did not want to startle his windfall with any sudden moves. However, to his relief, it stood placidly as he approached. When animal lowered its head to nuzzle a tussock of grass, Hidenori reached for its reins, chuckling with glee that the horse had been so easy to capture.

His original intent had been to lead his new acquisition back to his home, but... since the animal was so docile... Why walk, the lazy man thought, when he could ride? Lurching slightly from the alcohol coursing through his system, he pulled himself up onto the quiet horse's back and, with a self-satisfied smirk, kicked at its flanks with his sandalled feet.

It was at that point that things began to go horribly wrong.

The farmer gasped in shock as the saddle vanished and the reins became twisted wisps of hay which quickly disintegrated in his grasp. Then, several globes of light appeared in the air before him, swirling swiftly about each other until they merged to become a spinning vortex of white fire. A disembodied and raspy voice began to echo eerily from the glowing, flickering image.

'Children are gifts from the gods...' it said.

Hidenori regained his sobriety in a rush as the fire continued to speak, displeasure evident in every phrase. He was to be punished for spurning this gift, it said, and for his wastrel life. Now thoroughly panicked, the farmer tried to throw himself from the horse's back but, to his horror, he found that some invisible force held his legs fast in place. The beast's hindquarters shifted, its powerful muscles bunching and tensing... and Hidenori's stomach churned with fear. As he began to retch, however, the horse suddenly leapt forward, passing through the swirling light and galloping into the darkness of the night.

Hidenori screamed aloud, all thoughts of being sick gone. His frightened yells continued as the animal – which he was now convinced was a beast from the Netherworld – carried him through the village at an impossible speed. Yet, he heard no outcry behind him, nor did any lights appear in any windows.

The terrified man then realised that the only sounds he could hear were his own sobbing cries and the pounding of the black horse's hooves.

It was in that moment that Hidenori discovered that he knew how to pray.


The fiery illusion flickered and vanished as its wide-eyed creator watched the swirl of dust – the only visible sign of the black horse's passage – rapidly recede along the road through the village. Shippo was feeling a bit breathless. In spite of Lon's thorough explanation of his plans for Hidenori, the fox demon had to admit to himself that the reality of a púca's 'wild ride' had far exceeded his expectations.

'We're only going to be teaching him to appreciate his own mortality, so...' the púca had whispered to the kitsune when they had first sighted their quarry sprawled in the doorway of the old storage shed. Having scant sympathy to spare for Kanaye's father, Shippo had nodded eagerly in agreement. His fox's brush had momentarily stood on end, however, when he had glimpsed the pitiless expression which had crossed Lon's face just before he had transformed.

From that point on, everything had happened very quickly.

The young yokai felt a rush of pride as he thought of his own contribution to the trick. Creating and dispelling an illusionary saddle and bridle had been easy – becoming what Lon had jokingly called a 'voice of judgement' had been more of a challenge. Nevertheless, Shippo had avidly tackled the role and, knowing that a Dé Danann glamour hid them from any chance observer, had created his brightest fox fire. The little demon had almost lost his concentration, however, the moment Lon's wards had trapped Hidenori.

A shiver had coursed through Shippo as his yokai instincts had reacted to the intense excitement suddenly emanating from the black horse before him. The fox demon had looked up into the púca's eyes and had seen within them a desire, a need, to run and run and run...

Then, the wild glint in those blue eyes had given way to a more familiar mischievous gleam, and Lon had winked cheekily at the kitsune. Shippo had barely had time to grin in response before his partner in mischief had leapt over him and had sped away into the night, taking the barrier of the glamour with him.

The little fox demon sighed as he watched the last dust cloud settle. He knew it might be several hours before the púca returned, but he felt too excited to sleep.

I wonder if InuYasha is still awake?

Bursting to tell of his adventure, he scampered across the fields to where the headman's house lay on the other side of the village.


Hidenori had long since stopped telling himself that what he was experiencing was impossible, that no horse could gallop so swiftly – that this was all some bizarre sake-induced dream. No... the devil-beast beneath him was real and it was going to carry him straight to the gates of the Netherworld. 'Please... Let me go,' he begged, his words punctuated by the shuddering sobs that wracked his frame. 'Please... I... I just want to go home.' However, the animal's gait and speed never altered.

Then, to Hidenori's further horror, the horse left the road and instead began to follow the deer tracks running through the steep, forested slopes. Expecting to plunge off a cliff at any moment, the terrified man soon lost track of the time. His supplications to the gods became more and more incoherent as, finally, the combination of sake and profound fear took its toll and he slipped into blissful unconsciousness.

Feeling the sudden limpness of the body on his back, Lon emitted a satisfied snort and slowed to a normal canter. About time, he thought. Lasted a bit longer than I'd expected, too.

By this time, the púca had already turned back toward the village and was less than a league from its boundaries. An expert at assessing his targets, Lon had known that Hidenori would not last the night. Far too soused – and too bloody cowardly – for a 'proper' run, he thought disparagingly. Not like the soldiers. Now, one of them could hold out 'til dawn...

Londubh then chuckled. In truth, he was hardly disappointed that he hadn't had to endure contact with the obnoxious man for the entire night. Indeed, the reason he had abandoned the road for the more precipitous hillside trails had been to push his target toward unconsciousness more quickly. Of course, thought Lon smugly, they had never been in any real danger of falling. To one who was as sure-footed as a goat, the rocky tracks had been no hardship at all.

Still keeping his wall of glamour intact, Lon slowed to a walk and then halted beside a large cypress tree on the edge of the village. He dismissed his wards with a thought, and the unconscious Hidenori slid unceremoniously from his back to land with a muffled 'thud!' on the thick grass below. The farmer moaned, then curled up on his side as sleep overwhelmed him.

The shape-shifter had to admit that Shippo's illusions had been a nice touch. Lon had never before used such theatrics to snare a target. However, as he now looked down at the pathetic article at his feet, he congratulated himself for his spur of the moment involvement of the kitsune. He sincerely hoped that Hidenori would continue to think that he had come under the scrutiny of whatever gods the mortal feared.

'Pleasant dreams,' the púca whispered with a falsely cheerful lilt. Then, with a very equine snort and a flick of his long, thick tail, he turned away from the unconscious man and trotted into the woodland.

His destination was a pond he had spotted during his run. Though he had planned to return to Takeo's house in time to catch at least a few hours of sleep that night, the notion of a bath was too tempting after carrying such an 'aromatic' passenger.

It didn't take him long to find the secluded pool. It was fed by a waterfall, and the water was clean and fresh; with an appreciative sigh, the black horse lowered his head to take a long drink. Then, he walked leisurely into the mere, the ripples of his passage disrupting the reflections of the almost-full moon and surrounding trees on the water's surface.

Again, Lon sighed – this time in relief – as the soothing coolness embraced his aching muscles. A rueful chuckle escaped him as he reflected that it was just as well the mortal cac had not been made of sterner stuff. After cantering up a mountain road for the better part of the day, a typical all-night 'wild ride' would have taxed even his endurance. After all, he thought wryly, Londubh of the Púca Clan did have some limits...

Not that he would admit to such a thing publicly, of course.

He halted once he felt the water lapping at his flanks; his aura of power pulsed briefly... and the horse again became human. However, it was not a youth who stood waist-deep in the pool. Instead, Lon had assumed his true form.

The púca regarded his reflection in the moonlit water and smiled wistfully. Sometimes, he thought, it's best to face the truth... Especially after passing judgement on another.

Not that he regretted what he had just done to Hidenori. His face twisted with disgust as he remembered the fear he had seen in Kanaye's thin, peaked face.

Mortals... Damnú! Is it because they breed so easily that they can cast off their young, so?

With this angry thought, Londubh swiftly undid his belt and tossed it and his dagger to the nearby bank. Then, he pulled his tunic over his head and plunged the garment into the chilly water. The magical energies of his transformation had greatly diluted the stench of sake mixed with sweat – indeed, shape-shifting a few more times would have eliminated it altogether. But, Lon felt an overwhelming need to indulge in a more tangible cleansing and, within moments, the tunic landed in a sopping heap beside the dagger, the rest of his clothing following it in quick succession.

With a low groan of pleasure, the púca stretched his arms before him and, taking a deep breath, dived beneath the dark water.

He didn't resurface until he reached the centre of the pool where, gasping in the cool night air, he stretched out on his back and floated. Ah now, he thought, as he began to relax upon the water, sure, but I needed this. He wondered idly if the villagers even knew of this peaceful refuge – from what he had seen, the only paths that led to the pond had been made by the wild creatures of the forest. Too wild and secluded a spot, perhaps... Or, had living so long near a haunted lake made the locals nervous of any body of water...?

The conversations he had overheard earlier began to intrude upon his mind and he wondered about the connection between the Lake of Tears and poor, mad Taro. Lon was not particularly pleased that the elderly mortal had intrigued Aine – not if, that is, he truly had some tie to the wraith which so interested the monk.

He frowned, dispelling thoughts of mortal sickness and deadly ghosts. Better, he decided, to consider such matters with Aine's input.

Continuing to float upon the cool water, Lon turned his head to watch the cascade that fell down the tiered, moss-covered wall of rock, its streaming froth turned silver-blue by the moonlight. Then, as he stared at the lovely sight, he suddenly felt his chest tighten with a familiar, bittersweet ache.

Within his mind, Londubh saw another dark pool beneath a starry sky – he could remember the feel of the soft grass beneath him, the rough bark of the tree against which he had leant... the wonderful warmth of his Sorcha as she had nestled within his arms, her head tilting back to rest on his shoulder.

Oh, Danú... How did I not see it before? This place... It's so like the waterfall above Gleann na Choirthe. He closed his eyes to the sight of the falls, but the memories still came...

Warm, kind eyes the dark grey of a dove's wing; that sweet, bright smile that had stopped him in his tracks when first he had seen her; and, her hair... A soft sigh of longing escaped the puca's lips. Oh, how he had loved her hair. Dark and shiny it had been, falling in a tumble of curls down her back. He would never forget the feel of it in his hands, the scent of it...

'A chuisle mo chroí...' he whispered. The sound of the waterfall began to fade as his very spirit immersed itself in his most precious memories.

However, survival instincts sharpened by centuries of life could not be long ignored. Suddenly, Lon realised that he was too relaxed – that, in fact, he was falling asleep. He gasped aloud, his body reflexively stiffened... and he sank like a stone.

Coughing and red-faced with embarrassment, he broke through the water's surface. And, aren't you the foolish article? Amadán! Letting your guard down so in this foreign place full of 'demons' and Danú knows what else. Continuing to inwardly berate himself, he turned and swam back to the pond's grassy bank.

It was time, he decided, to go back to the village. Even though he had made certain young Shippo had a plausible story to relay in the off chance of the mortals awakening before his return, he would far prefer that his absence not be noticed at all.

A simple Dé Danann charm took care of the sodden state of his clothes. Murmuring the ancient Words, he called forth currents of warm, dry air which whirled about him as he dressed; by the time Lon was fastening his woven belt about his waist, his garments were barely damp.

He dismissed the spell, and was about to transform, when a sweet but unknown floral scent filled his nostrils. The púca froze, certain that he could feel a presence close behind him. His first thought was that his small magic had attracted someone... or something. Then, his breath caught in his throat as, from the corner of his eye, he caught a fleeting glimpse of a slight form that seemed all too familiar.

Londubh spun about to face... nothing. He was alone on the moonlit bank, and the scent of flowers had completely vanished. Had he imagined it? And, had he seen...?

No. He shook his head, telling himself that it was impossible.

Ach... You're tired is all, he thought angrily. 'Twas only because you were just thinking on her...

Solitude had lost its attraction. The púca spread his arms wide and willed his form into a shape for which he had little fondness. Unfortunately, he thought with a grimace, the nearby calls of owls dictated that he should become something sturdier than a blackbird for the short flight to the village.

His form shifted and shrank, and the man became a raven. The large bird looked once more at the waterfall, then took to the air and silently glided toward the village.


InuYasha sat cross-legged just inside the entryway of Takeo's house, head bowed and arms folded within his sleeves as he dozed. However, as the first notes of birdsong began in the nearby woodland, his ears twitched slightly in response. Then, his brow furrowed as a light kick against his leg brought him fully awake.

Brat, he thought. With a grunt, he shifted to the right and out of the reach of a softly snoring Shippo sprawled next to him. Probably dreaming about his so-called 'brilliant trick'...

The hanyo had heard all about the fox demon's adventure. Shippo's whispered and enthusiastic description had seemed unending... until every other sentence had become punctuated with a yawn. At that point, InuYasha had told him he had 'yapped enough for one night'. The drowsy fox demon had reluctantly agreed and, after following his cantankerous friend inside, had soon drifted off to sleep. Thus, only InuYasha had seen how, in the small hours of the morning, Lon had slipped into the headman's home as silently as he had exited it.

He now looked sideways to where the Dé Danann lay slumbering soundly beneath his woollen cloak with his head pillowed on his arm. Huh! It looks like he can get tired after all...

He could not help smirking at the idea that Lon was not indefatigable – especially since the half-demon himself had found the long run into the mountains a little tiring. Then, he heard a whisper of movement across the room and glanced up to see Aine emerge from the chamber she had shared with Sango and Kagome.

The healer smiled a greeting to the dog-eared hanyo, then stepped quietly between those sleeping until she reached her patients. Kanaye, she noted, was much better – a light touch to his head was enough to let her know that his fever was gone. When she came to Taro, however, she frowned in concern, for she had thought his temperature would also have returned to normal by now. However, though much diminished, the odd fever still clung to the fragile old man, and she suspected that this had much to do with other imbalances in his life-force – ones which, she believed, had been present for a very long time.

Aine placed her hands on the man's temples and again linked her life-force with his. Her magical probes flowed deeper than they had the night before, focussing specifically on the complex patterns of energy that enveloped the mind.

I was right, then, she thought. The disruptions in those patterns could still be corrected. But... should I? Aine regarded Taro sadly. Poor, gentle soul. Perhaps 'twould be more cruel to awaken your mind after so many years...?

As she broke her healer's circuit and rose from her knees, she saw Lon stir, and knew that her magic had woken him. The púca sat up and combed his fingers through his thick, dark hair. When he caught her eyes upon him, he smiled and gestured with a nod of his head that they should meet outside.

Stretching lightly, Lon stood and made his way to the door. As he passed InuYasha, he whispered, 'Care to join us in taking the morning air, pup?'

The half-demon bristled again at the label. An angry retort was on the tip of his tongue when his sharp ears picked up another murmured comment. 'Aine's bound to ask about last night's run, so if you'd like to hear about it, too...?'

Curiosity swiftly supplanted irritation. Muttering angrily under his breath about smart-mouthed, sawed-off foreigners, InuYasha rose and silently slipped outside to the veranda behind a softly chuckling shape-shifter.


'Ach, a Lon... a mountain path? What if the man's heart had stopped?'

Aine's voice held a gently chiding tone, though she knew from long experience that the púca would dismiss such a notion. She was proven right as Lon emitted a snort of disbelief.

'Ah now, you know that's never happened,' said the 'youth', with his usual cheeky grin. 'I can always tell, lass. The frail ones... well, they have a certain look to them.'

InuYasha had done his best to not seem too interested in Lon's narrative. However, he could not resist asking about something that had been puzzling him. 'So, um... How come the idiot didn't just jump off?'

The shape-shifter dipped his head modestly, though his tone of voice was anything but. 'Because of a special twist to a basic warding spell. No one falls from my back... unless I wish it,' he added with a wink. ''Tis the same for all of my clan.'

At that moment, a yawning and scratching Shippo appeared in the doorway, took one look at Aine, and promptly made his way to her lap. The healer laughed and gladly gave the little yokai the cuddle he was seeking. InuYasha rolled his eyes at the sight, while Lon merely grinned and asked the 'little warrior' if he had slept well after giving such a fine performance.

While Aine chatted to a now beaming Shippo, the púca stood and looked thoughtfully toward the forested slopes which were still veiled by the early morning twilight. 'You know,' he said after a few moments, 'I saw signs of game in those woods last night. No offense to our hosts, but I've a craving for something more substantial than roots and grains. I think I'll go hunting.'

'Hunting?' The question was asked simultaneously by InuYasha and Shippo. The half-demon gave the púca a suspicious glance. 'You hunt? Isn't that kinda like eating your cousins?'

The look Lon gave InuYasha was one of such affronted dignity that Aine had to brush her hand over her mouth to hide a smile. Of course, she thought, the half-demon would have no idea of the gaffe he had made in suggesting that a púca would mimic an animal used as food. The healer herself did not understand exactly when the rule had originated in Lon's clan – or why – but she did know that it was written in stone.

'I only take the shapes of animals – I'm hardly a blood relative,' Lon said drily, as he stared pointedly at InuYasha's ears. The narrow-eyed glare the hanyo shot him in return showed that the innuendo had not been missed. 'Aye, I hunt. But, as I said, I'll be glad to leave the hunting of serpent demons to you. I'm quite content with a hare or a pheasant.'

Lon turned to Aine. 'Will you come with me, lass?' he asked softly. 'Not to hunt, of course... but, 'tis a lovely morning. And, I've a pretty spot to show you.' He canted his head, looking for all the world like an eager youth. 'We'll be back before long, so.'

Aine gave him a considering look. She knew her blackbird well – he had more on his mind that rounding out his diet and showing her the local scenery. 'Of course, a stór,' she answered. After all, she thought, she did have much to ponder. This strange illness – what can be behind it? Perhaps the tranquillity of the forest might help her focus better upon the puzzle.

Then, the half-demon's sharp ears heard the sounds of movement within – the household, he said, was awakening. A few minutes later, Izumi appeared in the doorway with a yawning Kagome behind her.

When she learnt that the healer and her companion were planning to head into the forest, the motherly peasant woman promptly expressed some concern. It was then that the others were treated to the sight of a púca at his most glib as Lon set about reassuring her that she had no cause to worry. By the time he was done, Izumi was merely shaking her head at the eccentricities of foreigners and their strange liking for roaming the woodlands.


'So, you sense nothing... no one at all?'

Lon's tone was light as he asked the question, but Aine knew his intent in bringing her to the remote pool had been very serious.

Their departure had been delayed by Izumi's insistence that they break their fast first. Still, Lon had been sincere when he had said he didn't plan to keep Aine away from her patients for too long; once out of sight of the village, he had again taken the form of a horse and they had reached the secluded pool in good time. En route, he had told her about his experience during the night, and of how he had thought that, if only for a moment, he had not been alone here.

'Nothing, a stór,' said Aine now. She glanced about the clearing that held the pond and its waterfall, then lowered herself to sit beside her friend on the grass-covered bank. 'In fact, I've not sensed a life-force holding Power since we entered this valley – with the exception of yourself and our travelling companions.'

Londubh smirked. 'Bad news indeed for the serpent-hunting puppy,' he said. Then, he ran a hand tiredly over his face. 'It was just... I could feel it behind me – but it was so faint. And then, I thought I saw someone...' He paused, shrugging.

'And, you thought you felt an aura of magic?' asked Aine.

'In truth, I don't know what to call it. It wasn't a cast spell... of that I'm certain.' He sighed and shook his head. 'Maybe I was just too bloody tired. I'm sorry, mo chailín... It seems I've dragged you up here for nothing.'

At this, Aine placed her hand over his. 'Do you hear me complaining, a stór?' she asked. 'I think you did sense something – but, whatever it was is long gone.'

The shape-shifter was silent for a moment, his eyes fixed upon the waterfall before them. 'So,' he said, changing the subject. 'Enough of my delusion. What do you plan to do with the real madman?'

Now it Aine's turn to sigh. 'That I'll have to think on a while longer. It's as I said on the way here – the shroud upon his mind can be healed, but Takeo said that Taro was fifteen when he lost his reason. Fifteen, Lon. If I cause that curtain to lift... I don't know if he's even aware that he's aged over sixty years.'

Frowning, the púca turned his intent blue gaze upon her. 'Well, lass... perhaps 'twould be best you leave well enough alone. If his mind returns under your care, won't that draw too much attention to your 'skills'?'

The healer shook her head. 'Actually, that odd fever has provided a perfect decoy. Izumi has already told me she and her family think the illness has cleared his mind somewhat. Apparently, he was unusually coherent last night.'

'Well, when all's said and done, lass... don't go breaking your heart over these mortals.' Lon squeezed her hand as his gaze again strayed to the white cascade of water. 'That valley fair reeks of tragedy. It won't do to become emotionally involved.'

'Oh?' Aine replied softly. 'So... when you targeted that sad excuse for a parent last night... that wasn't due to any emotional involvement on your part?'

Lon huffed indignantly. 'Indeed not. I was only desperate for some entertainment.' He was about to further defend his honour when Aine's arms went about him. Surprised, he returned the impromptu hug, then pulled back slightly, his blue eyes showing his bemusement as he met her kind gaze. 'What was that for, mo chailín?' he asked.

'That,' she answered, 'was because, in your own unique way, you're a good man. And...'she added in a whisper as she again pulled him close, 'because of the way you watch that waterfall.'

The púca closed his eyes as his arms again tightened about the healer's slim frame. Then, he gently released her and kissed her cheek. 'You know me too well, child of my heart,' he murmured. 'Thank you.'

Aine smiled softly at hearing the old endearment from her childhood. 'Failte romhat. So, do you still intend to hunt this morning, a bhodach?' she then asked. 'Or, was that merely some creativity on your part?'

Lon chuckled. 'Ah no – I was serious, right enough... though Miroku told me we might be the only ones eating what I catch. Something about religious beliefs, though he mentioned that he wasn't adverse to some meat now and then. Still, if I'm to repay our hosts for their hospitality, I might have to do some fishing, too.' He then stood. 'Are you sure you don't want me to take you back, first?'

Aine shook her head, saying that she would wait for him by the pool. 'I'd like to indulge in a bit of solitude,' she said with a grin. 'I've much to think on.'

Nodding in response, the púca closed his eyes; his aura of power rose and his form flowed into that of a black, rough-coated wolfhound. The massive dog's mouth opened in a huge, panting grin. 'Right then, lass,' he said. 'Look for me within the hour.' Then, he turned and loped into the forest.

Lon had not been gone long when Aine felt the surge of his wards. However, this did not alarm her, for she recognised their unique pattern. Her friend, she knew, was using walls of warding to flush some sort of game.

Slipping her healer's satchel from her shoulder, Aine began to hum softly to herself as she unbound her hair. The pool, she had decided, looked too inviting to simply sit beside it. Then, as she bent to undo the ties of her sandals, she froze. Wide-eyed, she stared in the direction Lon had taken.

Aine paused only long enough to retrieve her satchel. Then, she was running like a deer toward Lon's Dé Danann aura... and the powerful life-force that was moving swiftly toward him.


Jaken was feeling very much on edge. Lord Sesshoumaru had set a steady pace for his small entourage, and they had covered a considerable distance during the night. Now, they had reached the entrance to the valley which was supposed to hold the Lake of Tears. The kappa was more than a little worried about what might await his master at that lake... and about how Rin would fare as the day progressed. For, the sun had begun to rise and Jaken, who had excellent weather sense, knew that the day promised to be hot.

Suddenly, Sesshoumaru halted and the little yokai had to back-pedal to avoid running into his master's leg. He watched, silent and apprehensive, as Lord Sesshoumaru turned slowly – the powerful demon's eyes flickered briefly over Rin, then he looked down at his servant.

'Jaken.'

'Yes, Lord Sesshoumaru?'

'There is a ridge covered by birch ahead. You will continue until you reach that point.'

'Yes, my Lord. Are... are you leaving, then?'

'Hnh,' grunted Sesshoumaru, deeming that sufficient response to his servant's stating of the obvious. Then, he strode out of the kappa's sight.

Kakusamaru will keep his distance during the day, thought the taiyokai, as he moved deeper into the valley. During their meeting, he had quickly realised that Naraku's blue-skinned messenger was hidden by the night's shadows and that this, coupled with his almost non-existent jaki and scent, made him virtually invisible even to one with the acute senses of an inu yokai. As far as Sesshoumaru was concerned, Kakusamaru had gotten far too close before he had been detected. And, since there were still pieces missing from the puzzle which the Rin's enthralment had presented, the dog demon had refused to give his enemies any leeway by leaving the girl unguarded at night.

Sunrise had brought about a change in strategy. His current intent was to investigate the Lake of Tears. No matter, he thought, if the 'ghost' was only accessible at night as Kakusamaru had claimed (not that he would ever accept at face value anything related by a spawn of Naraku). He would see for himself just what this lakeshore held – at the time of his choosing.

However, Sesshoumaru had not gone far when his senses leapt to attention. The powerful demon stopped – then, elegant brows lifted slightly with surprise as topaz eyes gleamed with recognition. Directly before him, farther into the valley, there had been a burst of magical energy. Then, it happened again... and again. The magic was faint... but its signature was unmistakable.

Tuatha Dé Danann...

He remembered. Two days ago... That hint of power that had brushed his senses, but had been far too fleeting and faint to identify or trace... Had that also been Dé Danann?

The taiyokai's demonic aura surged. A curtain of mist swirled about his feet, then merged with his thick, pale fur wrap to trail behind him as he rose into the air.

Staring intently ahead, the dog demon flew swiftly toward the foreign magic.


Ah now... Aren't you a fine fellow?

Lon grinned as he regarded the cock pheasant. He had scented the bird very soon after he had parted from Aine, and his strategically placed spells of warding had effectively flushed it from cover and herded it to a small glade. Now, after repeatedly being turned back by invisible walls, the pheasant had halted in confusion.

With a thought, the púca shifted back to the form of a youth. Though he would track game as a canine, he was not about to try to catch it as such. A mouth full of feathers was hardly an appetising thought.

Moving slowly and silently, Lon unwound the outer binding of his dagger's sheath. The strip of leather was also a sling, and the Dé Danann could use it with lethal efficiency. He tucked a smooth stone into its folds, all the while keeping his eyes on the pheasant. It was, he had to admit, a beautiful bird. The coppery plumage seemed to glitter in the early morning sunlight.

And, he'll be an even lovelier sight roasted with herbs.

He was about to take aim, when he realised that he was not alone. Though he did not have Aine's acuity when it came to detecting powerful life-forces, like all of their race, Lon could sense another magical being in near proximity. Unlike his experience by the pool the previous night, he was now absolutely certain that he could feel an aura of power behind him – and, an extremely strong one at that.

Damnú air...

The púca turned slowly to meet a cold, golden stare.

Of course, he immediately recognised the aristocratic being standing only a few metres away. How could he not, after hearing Sesshoumaru described by both Aine and Eadoin? However, after meeting InuYasha, a particular image of the hanyo's older brother had taken root in Lon's mind – that of a more mature and experienced version of the half-demon. He now realised his imagination had definitely led him astray.

This one, he thought, could be a match for Fionnbharra himself. Perhaps, more than a match. Yet, this was his Aine's anamchara. This unbelievably powerful and, without doubt, dangerous being had a soul which was compatible with that of the healer. Eadoin, my lad... you had the right of it. Fate does indeed have an odd sense of humour.

'You are Dé Danann.'

Sesshoumaru frowned slightly as he spoke. He had expected to find the healer or the bard – the sight of a stranger was decidedly off-putting to the already irate taiyokai.

Deciding that formality would definitely be the best route to follow, the púca nodded his head and, remembering Eadoin's description of his meeting with Sesshoumaru, executed a bow that was respectful, but not fawning. 'Indeed,' he said. 'I am Londubh of the Púca Clan, of the Tuatha Dé Danann. I presume I have the honour of meeting the Lord Sesshoumaru?'

The dog demon's frown deepened as he studied the slender, foxy-featured youth before him. So, he thought, he had been recognised. And, apparently this stripling considered himself of some note. Then, as he met the frank stare of the stranger's intensely blue eyes, he quickly came to another conclusion. 'Hnh. This is not your true form.'

Lon raised an eyebrow. Somewhat faster on the uptake than his brother, isn't he? 'Aye?' he answered, then shrugged and smiled. 'Well then, we have something in common.'

Sesshoumaru's eyes narrowed on hearing this. Then, his nostrils flared slightly. That scent...

Though Lon had transformed twice since parting from Aine, this had not been enough to disperse the evidence that he had been in close contact with her. Though faint, her scent was all over him... and Sesshoumaru's sharp nose had detected it. 'Where is the lady?' he asked, as his yoki began to stir about him.

The taiyokai's voice was coolly impassive, yet Lon had detected in those deep tones an underlying aggression. Lovely... Bloody lovely. What's put his hackles up, then?

However, before the shape-shifter could respond, Sesshoumaru suddenly looked to his right, and the power Lon had sensed rising about the inu yokai rapidly subsided. The púca followed his gaze, and felt a flutter of relief pass over him when he saw Aine hurrying toward them.

Lass, I do appreciate your sense of timing...


A/N: 'A chuisle mo chroí ... This is one of the loveliest terms of endearment I've ever heard. Cuisle (kush-la) means 'pulse' and croí (kree) means 'heart'. So, when you call someone, 'a chuisle mo chroí', you are calling them your heart's pulse. Can you imagine? (sigh)

Trivia: The Glencar waterfall exists -- many photos of it can be found on-line and there is a particularly lovely one at Webshots dot com. This waterfall was, in fact, a source of inspiration for W.B. Yeats' imagery-rich poem, 'The Stolen Child'. Quote: 'Where the wandering water gushes / from the hills above Glencar'. Loreena McKennitt has set it to music on her CD, 'Elemental' (and, no, Magnusrae... that's not 'the' song... ;) ).

My oh my... Here's hoping this uploads intact. All sort of hiccoughs in the document manager today. :( Now, I should warn you that the next chapter may be delayed. You see, October is the end of the business year for me, and there's this horribly tedious thing called year-end bookwork... Believe me, I'd rather be playing with the next chapter...

Speaking of which. Next: Oh heck, you know what's next, don't you?