The ride to the conference was uneventful. The second gin had gone down smoother than the first and Isolde was feeling quite content. She thought of Erlind’s explanation of how he became involved in all of this mayhem and why he wanted out. It was a familiar story.<br/><br/>Her cousin, Darcy the Damned as Isolde thought of her, would have not felt the slightest twinge of binding some high level demon the way that Erlind had been bound. Witch that she was, Isolde’s magik bloomed from the desire to help others, live and let live. She followed the Rede, Do what you will and harm ye nane. Darcy on the other hand, her heart as black as her hair was platinum used to magik the wings off flies to watch them buzz around in agony when they were young. She learned early that magik brought power and power brought wealth which brought prestige. Darcy,<br/><br/>“Now why the hell am I thinking of that Ice Queen,” Isolde thought irritably. Finally she shook her head as if to clear her thoughts. The limousine was pulling to the hotel drive and under the awning.<br/><br/>A uniformed man with a red arm band marked with a black swastika opened her door and welcomed her in High German. She graciously gave him her hand and he assisted her from the car.Isolde waited for Erlind to come around and took his arm as they ascended the steps.<br/><br/>Two Waffen-SS soldiers opened the door for the handsome couple as they entered the hall. The great hall was resplendent with German officers and their ladies. Cigarette smoke lazily spiraled from the ends of narrow white holders and hands held martinis. The women were elegant and chic. Many had their hair cut and styled after Veronica Lake,an American actress and their gowns sparkled or fluttered with feathers. Isolde paused and knew she would be so horribly out of place in such a grand gathering.<br/><br/>They passed by a man in a long brown leather trenchcoat. Isolde nodded to him as she followed Erlind through the crowd.