At home it was somewhat more difficult. That first day, he was quizzed at some length by Donal and by Liam, for while it was accepted that I had made my choice, that didn’t mean they had to like it.

Conor, surprisingly, had little to say. I caught his grave eyes on me, watching with a sort of wry acceptance, and when later I drew him aside alone, he said, “You thought that unfair, did you? To make a man reveal himself thus before us?”

“You were hard on him,” I said. “I would have thought you, at least, could see him for what he is, without such a test.”

Conor smiled. “Without such a test, perhaps he would never have told you how he felt. Myself, I knew the man he was. Knew that it would be thus with the two of you. I cannot see what is to come, as Finbar does; but this meeting of spirits was as inevitable as the path of sun and moon across the sky. I have known it for some time; but it would have been a mistake to make it too easy for him. You had both to learn the power of loss, before you came to your senses. Tell me, did she visit you, that being of the other world who has guided your path? Have you seen her again, since you came home?”

“How do you know so much?” I was astonished, and would have been annoyed, were not the glow of joy so strong in me as to shut out all else.

“I have cause to put what skills I possess to the test, from time to time,” said Conor. “They are meager enough; they have been sufficient thus far, but not for much longer. I must soon leave this place, and go on another journey, and it may be long before I see you again. It eases my mind to see you so content after your ordeal. I believe it was ordained thus.”

“You’re not saying—you’re not saying what I think you’re saying? That the whole thing—all of it—that it was all for this end? So that he and I—no, I can’t believe that.” His words filled me with confusion. He must be wrong, surely. We were not mere puppets, but men and women making our own choices.

“One thing is certain,” he said. “You will never hear the answer from the Fair Folk. But it is a long, long game they play, and our stories are the slightest of pieces in its great pattern. You should think about it. Each of you was put through many trials; each of you proved strong, strong enough for their purpose. So strong, indeed, that you came close to thwarting them, for each of you chose to give up what was loved best, in the hope that the other would find happiness. The Fair Folk do not expect such selflessness.”

“But—but it was cruelly done. For us, the ending is a good one, but what about Father? What about Finbar? And there was a man of—of my husband’s people, a good man, who died protecting me. What of the child, whom Oonagh took away? Diarmid and Cormack are gone, and you say you are leaving too; soon there will be no family at Sevenwaters. I could almost believe what the lady Oonagh said that day, that she and the Lady of the Forest were one and the same, for the line between light and darkness seems thin indeed. What end could be worth such loss?”