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The next thingSétanta felt was something cold and wet pressed to his brow. He opened his eyes. A beautiful woman, her face radiating with a golden glow, stood over him dabbing his forehead gently with a moist rag.

"Dearest woman," Sétanta said. "You should not tend to me. I do not deserve such care."

The woman said nothing. She smiled. But the glow... it glittered all around her like some kind of magic. Something he'd never seen.

Sétanta grabbed the woman by the wrist as she reached to dab his forehead again. "Tell me, woman. What are you?"

"My name is Fand," the woman said.

"Fand? What sort of name is that?"

Fand pressed her lips together. "Our people have always attended those consumed by the ríastrad."

"Your people? Are you a part of the bardic troop from Emain Macha? They are the ones I seek..."

"No, I am not a bard," Fand giggled. "But they are aware of your presence. They shall be here soon."

"Again, I beg of you, tell me what you are... your beauty, Fand, exceeds that of any woman..."

Fand's pale cheeks blushed. Her eyes... they were golden to match the glow that adorned her countenance.

Sétanta's heart raced as Fand ran her cool rag across his chest. He'd never felt so enthralled by a woman. Yes, he'd had his crushes. What boy hadn't? He'd even enjoyed few youthful flings. But he'd never fallen under a woman's spell, never felt the kind of allure that welled up in his chest as Fand's eyes met his.

"I am of the Fae. And though I must say, I am not without desire for you, my young warrior poet, I'm already betrothed to Manannán mac Lir."

Sétanta raised his brow. How did she know so much about him to declare him both a warrior and a poet? Still, while Fand's knowledge of him was curious, his greater concern was Fand's would-be husband. "Manannán mac Lir... The son of the sea?"

"You know of him?"

Sétanta shook his head. "No, I simply know what the name means. Why would a creature so beautiful as you choose to marry a sailor?"

Fand laughed. "He's not a sailor... and he was not my choice. He's the king of the Sea Fae. Though he now rules many realms of land and sea."

Sétanta rolled his eyes. "So, I have to compete with a king..."

"There is no competition," Fand said. "No matter what my heart might desire... I cannot..."

Sétanta grabbed Fand and kissed her. The connection—whatever magic he had, whatever the ríastrad was, seemed to dance within him, sending his heart into a flutter, even as her magic tingled on his lips.

As Fand pulled away Sétanta's eyes met hers. "Are you sure about that? No competition, I mean?"

Fand stood and stepped away from the young warrior poet. "There cannot be... there could never be... what I feel for you, it is but lust. Love cannot possibly spark over such a brief encounter."

Sétanta bit his lip. "Did you feel it? The magic between us..."

"I did," Fand said hesitantly, glancing back at Sétanta over her shoulder.

"That has to mean something..."

Fand sighed. "It means you are with the ríastrad and I am faerie. Nothing more."

"I wasn't talking about the magic that passed between our lips... I was talking about the magic in our hearts. Tell me, I was not the only one who felt it."

"I cannot..."

"You cannot what?"