<span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#99ff99">"For someone supposedly good with the weather," Finn Doyle grumbled to his twin, "you didn't predict this sudden downpour."<br/>
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"Oh, buzz off," Fiona said irritably.  They were both drenched, red curls pressed flat to their heads.  Fiona had her white cat Alanna in her arms -- the feline had steadfastly refused to walk any further in the wet.  "We haven't been in town long enough for me to learn the weather patterns here."<br/>
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"Yeah, but --"  Finn might have continued if not for the sudden weight of his bird landing on his shoulder -- a large raven, though he was more grey than black.  "News for us, Cumainn?"<br/>
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"There is magic up ahead," the raven answered, nibbling at Finn's ear because he knew it annoyed his human.  "Old magic.  Perhaps you may find shelter with the one who guards it."<br/>
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Fiona shook her wet hair back from her face.  "I'd take shelter with a billy goat, at this point.  Thank you, Cumainn."  She was always scrupulously polite to her brother's familiar... even if the raven had never really warmed up to her.  "Come on, Finn."  Fiona seized her brother's hand in her own, using the other to cradle Alanna close to her chest.  "I want out of the wet and if we can find another magic user..."<br/>
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Finn followed, just as eager to be dry as his twin.  "Let's just hope whoever is guarding that old magic is on the side of the light."</span></span>