After showing her the way to the bedroom, Lochlan left her to face his daughter alone. Maybe he loved this thing and trusted it - but Rosaine had zero experience, none, with the madness. And so she stood in the shadows, waiting for a moment where she felt brave enough to knock on the door. And suddenly it opened before her. Rosaine lifted her eyes and looked at her cousin for the first time.

She wasn't scary at all. She very much resembled Lochlan, except where his hair was yellow, hers was straight, dark and had astonishing highlights the color of a flame; and where his eyes were gray, hers were the color of wet moss, sparkling in the sun. Her wings were folded so neatly that Rosaine couldn't even see them.

"What do you want?" the Fomorian asked bluntly.

Rosaine's eyes widened at her tone. "Uh…well, since you asked, what I really want is to go home."

"Then go." The Fomorian started to shut the door, and Rosaine blocked it.

"Uh, see, we're actually supposed to introduce ourselves. Our grandfather sent me here."

"So. You are the High Shaman's daughter." The Fomorian crossed her arms.

"Yes, Rosaine Dhianna-MacCallan. And you are…?" she ended inquisitively.

"Kaina."

Rosaine lifted a golden brow at Kaina's closed, antisocial body language. "Want to come join everyone?"
"No."

"You know, it's not every day the entire family gets together."

The door closed in her face. Unaccustomed to rejection, Rosaine turned and retraced her steps to the grand hall; offering a helpless shrug to Lochlan. "At least I survived it," she grumbled, before taking her place at the table.

Cuchulainn opened the door to his bedroom, and his expression twisted dramatically. He stumbled inside. "Wow," he said. "Oh, this takes me back."

Brighid smiled, clopping in after him. "Is it different at all?" she inquired.

"No, not one bit."

She closed the door and slid the lock into place. He was still admiring the room, so she went to the fireplace and started lighting it. She looked over her shoulder. "Cu, are you planning to sleep on your feet? I assure you, you will need two more legs."

He chuckled and walked to the bed, sitting down. But by the time she joined him, his smile was gone and his eyes looked sad. She folded her legs and put a hand on his knee. "Cuchulainn," she said softly. "I'm really glad you are still whole."

He reached up and touched her cheek, moving it down her neck in a loving caress. "That's because you keep me whole, my beautiful Huntress."

Already kneeling on the floor, she had only to lean forward to meet his lips. Instead of responding the way she would have preferred, he startled her when his lips stopped moving and he turned his head. "You know, I'm really not comfortable being intimate on this bed."

"Cuchulainn, this is your room. You have warmed this bed many times, with women who were decidedly not your wife."

"I know, but I wasn't…visiting. Or thinking about my mother."

Brighid yielded. "Fine. Just remember, I sleep without a top." She reached up and pulled it off, exposing herself. Folding her clothing, she put her garments on the surface nearest to her and then sank down onto the floor. "Cuchulainn, do you remember what happened the night Kaina was born?"

His hot gaze snapped up to her face, cooling quickly. "For the love of Epona, Brighid, don't take me back there."

"It was just a question."

"Yes. I remember," he said, pouting.

"Brenna's mirror image came to Partholon and we never understood why," she said softly.

"Why are you reminding me of something I have never forgotten?"

She raised her hands, silently beseeching his attention. "Cuchulainn, for many years I have been practicing my abilities as a Huntress. And now I feel strong enough to attempt to track through the Divide."

He stared at her.

"So I must ask you to be very quiet," she told him.

"But, wait, why now? What about after the funeral? And why do you want to go through the Divide?" he blurted. His tirade ended when she again raised a hand.

"I'm curious about her, Cu. She came from another world, something I never would have begun to fathom."

"Brighid—"

"I miss her," she said, with finality.

Cuchulainn sighed and rubbed a hand through his hair. Suddenly its shortness made him want to cry. "There are people I miss, too. Have you ever journeyed into the Underworld?"

Their eyes locked and her smile was full of promise. "Not yet I haven't."

He kissed her lips again. "Goodnight, Brighid."

"Goodnight," she echoed, and closed her eyes; listening to the crackle of the flames. She told herself to imagine Brenna, and like it was her own face, the image popped into her mind. Her doe brown eyes, her long brown hair, and the scars that seemed to complete her.

The firelight against her eyelids melted away, leaving her with the illusion of darkness. The comforting noise of the cozy fire dissipated. It was as though she had gone blind and deaf. Accustomed to this, Brighid did not panic. She could still feel herself kneeling on the hard floor of her lifemate's bedroom. These feelings were normal.

It had taken several years, but she was finally able to believe it when she told herself that.

Brighid let herself fall deeper into the trance, remembering the scent of Brenna's oils and herbs. Their pungent aromas were only a memory, but Brighid could feel her nose wrinkling in response; then she felt a sudden longing to actually smell those awful odors fogging up in her chambers. How could she miss something so disgusting? No, she didn't miss the oils, the herbs, the sleepy time teas; only the Healer who performed rituals and spoke to the Goddess like they had been girlfriends for decades.

Brighid's anger began deep in her chest as a familiar burn. She should have been there, she chided herself. It should have been her.

The familiar scents began to fade, and Brighid imagined herself following them like a lure. Suddenly a golden light manifested in the darkness that surrounded her so completely, and she instinctively launched herself towards the beacon. It was as though she was running on the spot, never able to reach the light. Until all at once, the candle was right in front of her; softly illuminating the table and a pair of delicate hands.

"What are you trying to do, Brighid?" a familiar voice asked. "Why are you always messing around in the Spirit Realm?"

"Niam?" Brighid asked hesitantly.

"You're not trying to find me, are you?"

Brighid noticed that no matter where she looked, the table was always directly in front of her. Damnit, this was her illusion, not Niam's! She planted her hands on her hips. "Not everything revolves around you."

"Nor around you, sister."

"What are you trying to tell me, Niam?"

"Epona gifted you greatly, Brighid, and it's fine to appreciate her kindness. But you are still alive. The Spirit Realm is not yours to wander, and I hope it will not be for many more years."

"I'm trying to find the truth."

The body behind the hands moved. "What truth?"

Brighid folded her equine legs, kneeling in the darkness.

"Oh, Brighid. You never age."

Brighid tried not to be disconcerted by how her sister disappeared completely from the shoulders up, which was not alleviated when Brighid pushed the candle closer to Niam. "Back when Elphame was pregnant, a woman came to Partholon by abnormal means. Her name was Brianna, and…she came from another world. She was the mirror image to my friend, Brenna."

"Now you have lost me. Mirror image?"

"It's something nobody understands, really. It's unclear how much Etain knew, and sadly she has passed on."

"I know, my friend."

"You do?"

"We are both in the Spirit Realm, after all." Niam laughed softly.

"Right…of course. Brianna called her world, Earth."

"She named her world after the ground?"

"Well, no, it's not… Not important," Brighid evaded. "The point is, everyone has a mirror image. A lookalike. And there are entrances to this planet all over Partholon."

"Whatever you say, Brighid. But why does that bring you here?"

"I'm trying to find this other world. I want to see how Brianna is doing."

"What right have you?"

"I miss her. She came to Partholon, and…" Brighid smiled, remembering. "It was like having Brenna back."

"Was it really?"

"Well, not exactly like it. She didn't know any of us, or understand our ways. And she frequently spoke of things I will never understand…without seeing her world," she concluded.

"Whatever you say," Niam said again. "But you cannot do that without your Stone…"

Movement caught Brighid's eye, and she looked down. The candle had vanished, the table had vanished, and Niam had evaporated completely. Brighid was alone, kneeling in her vision. Then, suddenly, she was no longer there; and she could hear the fireplace and feel its heat.

Opening her eyes, Brighid found herself looking at the dying fire. She rekindled the flames and looked at Cuchulainn, who slept soundly. Past his resting body, dawn was beginning to paint the sky. No wonder she felt exhausted. Curse the Spirit Realm and its irrelevance!

Her motivation was eradicated; finding Brianna could wait until she had gotten some rest. Brighid leaned her human torso against the bed, closed her eyes, and shut her mind off to the realm of spirits. The crackling warmth of the cozy fire pulled her into sleep.