Arlana reached into her bodice and brought forth a beaded necklace. She cradled it lovingly in her palms, gazing down at it with soft eyes.

"This, my child, is your new lover. The iuchair."

Mona was surprised to find herself reaching eagerly for it. As the cool beads slid between her fingers, she closed her eyes and saw things-the mountains and valleys of the Highlands. Heather-covered peaks, standing stones... a bleak and unforgiving island blasted by wind and the sea. The crumbling arches of a ruined abbey. Mona gasped, an inexplicable longing welling up inside her. She'd been there, a thousand times, though she'd never left the West March in her entire life.

Mona opened her eyes and met Arlana's knowing gaze.

"Do you now understand?"

Mona smiled slowly, realizing she'd finally come home.