Thankfully, the body remained supple, not showing the least sign of anything untoward on the journey back. Sif had quite brilliantly hid it under his cloak and dirty clothes so that no one else could see it when he walked through Cwge; and it gave him no trouble on the road back to Híuberd.

He felt that he had made good time, returning before even the end of the week. A mortal man would've long since collapsed.

And yet that terrible Dubhán, upon being summoned, had apparently told the messenger that Sif had taken longer than expected! He was already simmering with resentment by the time he arrived to the meeting room.

He was austere as before, white as a corpse.

" You brought it?" he asked. " Show me."

Sif, rankled, folded down the top of his cloak, showing Dubhán the upper body of the corpse. When he stood back, he was aghast that Dubhán whipped the cloak off entirely, and kicked the cart to the ground, spilling the body out; he was stronger than Sif had taken him for, which made uncertainty pierce his heart.

Dubhán snapped his fingers, rings clinking; to Sif's horror, one of the blue stones lit up as if with fire, and he realized too late what had been done. The body filled with life, skin restoring, hair turning red to gold, limbs becoming solid.

" Stand, Douglásc of Clearwater," Dubhán said, ignoring Sif's presence entirely.

A low moan came from the young man on the ground, as his body pulled itself up as though on strings; his head lolled around.

" Ugh... Where am I..?" he spoke, voice dry and disoriented. His brow furrowed in confusion. " Helna...? You can't..."

" Quit talking," Dubhán said to him, and he blearily trailed off. " That isn't Helna. Awaken your power, and look at it properly. A filthy stray animal has stolen Helna's body to use for wickedness, believing itself to be a god."

" I am a god," Sif argued. " Did you yourself not-"

" Shut up," Dubhán said. " You have done as I asked. For that, I am grateful. I will pardon these wayward people."

Sif was relieved.

" But you? You have interfered with my lord's plans," Dubhán continued. " The great shaman of Assur, Silver Helna, never had a cat. The cats came after the land was ruined, riding boats over with the ignorant Vóda."

" We met later," Sif caught himself saying, his mind still catching up with what was happening.

" Helna...? Haven't we... been-"

" Shut up, I told you," Dubhán snapped at the man, who still seemed to be collecting himself. " Now, little beast, you have been of use, and it ails me to dispose of you. But that body is useless without Helna's soul, and she has already departed for Mû."

Sif realized too late that he was being targeted; he had never thought that he could be caught by a mortal man. Dubhán took a dagger from his waist, and it was all he could do to jump backwards, narrowly avoiding him, knocking over chairs.

" Bastard! Of course you've betrayed me!" he cursed at him.

Dubhán kicked one of the chairs at him, still coming at him with the knife as Sif danced around, unarmed. There was nothing in the room he could think to arm himself with.

" Douglásc! Look at this little monster in Helna's body! Come catch it for me!" Dubhán ordered, curling his index finger, the one which bore the blue gemstone ring. Douglásc, still weak, stumbled forward, his body compelled by some kind of outside force; he was twisting his face in pain.

Sif stumbled, tripping over the hem of a rug, and spilled over, landing on the floor; Dubhán viciously stabbed down at him, dagger sinking into the wood. As he yanked it loose, Sif pulled himself up. He was close to the door- he could get out-

But then a hand caught him by the hair, and he yowled.

" Look at you, already useful," he heard Dubhán say, and then a terrible pain sunk inbetween his ribs.

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