Aoife’s hands moved in a dismissive gesture. “The terms are meaningless. Good or bad is a matter of perspective. I met an immortal humani once, a man called William Shakespeare, who wrote that there is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.”

Sophie bit the inside of her cheek to keep a straight face. She wasn’t about to tell Aoife that she’d actually met the famous bard only the day before yesterday. “Why did you kidnap me?”

“Kidnap you?” Aoife’s eyes widened in surprise and then her lips curled. “I suppose I did. I just needed to talk to you without interruption.”

“We could have talked on the street.”

“I wanted to talk in private. You could have invited me in.”

Sophie shook her head. “No, I wasn’t going to do that. My brother will find you,” she added.

Aoife laughed dismissively. “I doubt that. I had a brief encounter with him-he is powerful, but unskilled.” Then, with a touch of what might have been awe in her voice, she asked, “He is Gold?”

“And I’m Silver,” Sophie said proudly.

“The twins of legend.” Aoife sneered disbelievingly.

“You don’t believe that?”

“Do you know how many twins of legend there have been?”

“I know that there’ve been others…,” Sophie said cautiously.

“Many others. And do you know where they are now?”

Sophie started to shake her head, though she knew the answer.

“These gold and silver auras are not gifts. They are a curse,” Aoife snapped. “They will destroy you and everyone around you. I have seen entire cities laid to waste to kill just one twin.”

“The Alchemyst said that the Dark Elders-”

“I have told you: there are no Dark Elders,” Aoife snapped. “There are just Elders, neither good nor bad. Just a race of beings we now call Elders. Some encourage the humani, others despise them: that is the only difference between them. And even those guardians of humanity often change their allegiances. Do you think my sister was always the champion of the new humani race?”

The question shocked Sophie into silence. She wanted to refute the suggestion, but the Witch’s insidious memories trickled into her consciousness and she caught hints and glimpses of the truth-the real truth-about Scathach and why she was called the Shadow.

“I need you to tell me…,” Aoife began.

“Are you going to hurt me?” Sophie asked suddenly.

The question caught Aoife by surprise. “Of course not.”

“Good.” Sophie slipped out of the hammock and dropped to the floor. She swayed slightly. “I need something to eat,” she interrupted. “I’m starving. Do you have any crackers or fruit?”

Aoife blinked. She flowed to her feet and stood in front of the girl. “Well, no, actually. I don’t eat. Not food… not as you would recognize it, anyway.”