Brynn squeezed shut her eyes and counted to 60. 1, 2, 3, 4… 58, 59, 60. "Ready or not, here I come," she called out, feeling a twinge of excitement. To eight year old Brynn, unaware of the many adventures of her older sister, hide and seek was one of the most exciting things you could do on the Isle, especially when it was played with the other fae.

She quickly got to her feet, craning her head up to see if any of the more simpleminded fae had hidden themselves in the trees, but seeing no one, she set off for the cliffs. Oftentimes, Declan or William would hover under the crags of the cliffs, invisible to any who could not fly as they could. Fortunately, she thought with a smile, she could. Fly, that is. She would hate to be one of the many who could not, the dryads or nymphs. While they had their fun on either water or land, only ones such as she had the pleasure to enjoy all three.

Reaching the cliffs, she looked around, but neither saw nor heard anyone. A feeling of dread set over her. This close to the glen, you could usually hear the distant echoes of in the castle, or the villages beyond, but she could hear nothing. "Declan," she called, looking around for her brother. "I'm done. Please come out!" But just as she had expected, there was no response. "William," she tried, calling loudly out to her cousin.

When no response came, she began to cry, and soared as quickly as she could toward the fairy glen. Somehow, she knew something bad had befallen her people, and she had to find out what. Reaching the village, she saw a mess. The human's houses were destroyed, knocked over and burned into tragic heaps of rubble. But she raced onward. The affairs of humans did not much concern her. What she really wanted at that moment was a hug from her sister, Morganne, and the assurance that everything would be all right.

At the sight of the castle, she felt all the blood drain from her face. A ragged flag hung limply from the flagpole, and the many washbasins usually stacked next to the fence were strewn haphazardly around the yard. Through one doorway, she could see a small hand, deathly pale, of the size and color to belong to her cousin, William. "Oh no…" she whispered.