Inra returned to her home, Hill of the Haven, bearing food that she had bought at market that day in Cunga, for herself. She hated being alone, but she was glad to have gotten home before the strange mists that seemed to have materialized out of nowhere.

Like that big, feirce woman yesterday, the one looking for Saoirse. What were people doing looking here for the old lady? Inra lied, told her that a man had kidnapped Saoirse. She even specifically described the man from her imagination, knowing that the woman's search for a man that did not exist would prove futile. But if word got out she brought the Golden Warrior to the hospital on Inis an Ghaill, people would curse her--but what could she have done? She couldn't take care of an old woman. Besides, it was all in the past now.

She set down to her seaming, a dress belonging to the miller of Cúnga's wife, rocking in her chair. She so hated being alone.

---

“Manannan…Oarsman! Auntie Freedom!”

Saoirse was right on top of Moss when she hears the call, and as the mist parts to Moss’s recognition, Saoirse answers. “Ye don’t have to scream so loud, woman, me’s right here.” She is holding the walking stick with both hands, yet is feeling stronger already.

“Dawn breaks soon, an’ there’s no poin’ in returnin’ t’sleep. Ye know, Cúnga is scarse an hour’s walk from here, I realize. Wha’ do ye suppose the oarsman has fer breakfast?”