"Obviously not," Marcello replied. "What with the kidnapping children and the blackmail and the warfare and whatnot." He sighed. "And I don't even know where to start. Niabheara's going to worry about Dierdre."

"Niabheara is going to worry about Cnoch-na-Niall," said the girl, dryly. "She's in damage-control mode."

"She's also going to worry about Dierdre," Marcello replied. "I've already been speaking to her about it." He groaned. "What do you think? What should we do?"

"Marcello you know I can't give that kind of advice." She looked pained. "But . . . honestly? Titania's dead. Auberon's dead. How long do you guys want people to go on dicking you around?"

"I don't," Marcello replied. He rolled his eyes. "I don't want your advice as an Aspect. I want your opinion as a friend. It doesn't have to be right. It's just...there are only so many people I can tell the whole story to."

"Is it safer to get a reputation for someone who fights back, or someone lets themselves be blackmailed?" she said. "I don't think anyone's going to have much sympathy for Niabheara in this. She's not going to look like a scared young lady who got forced into a bad situation because she was trying to protect someone she loved. She's going to look like a weak countess who got what was coming to her for being a sexual deviant."

Marcello grimaced. "I suppose it would be the fighting back," he replied. "But there's no proof of her, err. Deviance. I don't see how anyone would be able to prove it. Duncan can't prove it without throwing Dierdre to the wolves, too."

"That may be the plan," the girl said grimly. "My heart of hearts hopes he wouldn't; my brain of brains says he would. It's hard to predict anyone so . . . detached."

"is he detached?" Marcello asked. "I've not spent enough time with him to know, I suppose. He seems nice enough in person, but I guess people like that are always nice enough, because it doesn't cost them anything. Do you know anything about Dierdre Oisin? Is it worth trying to resolve our differences ahead of Duncan?"

"Um . . . " Her eyes slid away, then she made a scowly, nose-wrinkly face and shrugged. "Ah well, doesn't matter, you already know this stuff now. Dierdre Oisin's not real," she explained. "She only fulfills a function. Unfortunately, at this time part of her function is making a pest of herself because she thinks the Oisins got screwed out of Cnoch-na-Niall some umpty-hundred years ago."