“Who has healing powers?” I asked. “Or what does? Which fae?”

“None.”

When I gave him a hard look, he threw up his hands. “We don’t. What you are looking at is a ritual. Presumably your parents killed in that specific manner for a reason, and that reason is tied to your cure.”

“If you tell me it was a satanic rite . . .”

He made a face. “Nothing so pedestrian. Or ludicrous. Demons are a very human creation. You look for ways to explain evil, and instead of seeing it in yourselves, you offload the responsibility onto monsters. The monstrous exists in the mirror, not in the sulfurous depths of some fantasy world.”

“Or in the fantastical world of fae.”

“It’s not that fantastical, as you can see. We don’t live in another realm. We’re here sharing yours. There’s no such thing as an evil race of fae. No more than there is an evil race of humans. Individuals, yes. But for the rest of us, we are like you—neither wholly good nor wholly bad. We simply don’t feel as compelled to hide the bad.”

“And as fascinating as this philosophical discussion could be, it doesn’t help me solve the problem.”

“True. Another time, then.”

“Or not . . .”

Patrick only smiled. “You should at least humor me, Liv.”

“You wouldn’t respect me if I did.”

“Also true. Back on topic. Fae may not have innate healing abilities or a direct line to the imaginary world of demon sacrifices, but there are . . . powers.”

“Like healing?”

“No, I mean . . .” He made a vague gesture. “Powers. Higher powers, you might say, though I’m not inclined to put it that way.”

“Gods?”

He made the face he had when he’d talked about demons. “That’s why I didn’t put it that way. I wouldn’t call them gods or deities. Just . . . powers.”

“Uh-huh. Are we talking about the Druids again?”

“Not really.”

“That isn’t an answer.”

He sighed. “There are powers. Those powers have greater abilities. It is possible to invoke their favor.”

“Like demons.”

He made a noise in his throat that sounded remarkably like Gabriel’s soft growl of frustration. “This is the problem with talking to boinne-fala. You have your boxes and everything has to fit into them or you’ll damn well cram them in. God, demons, saints, monsters . . . There are powers. They have powers. Those powers can be invoked.”

“By us?”

“No. Only fae. However, we could do so on behalf of a human.”

“How is that different from having the actual power to heal?”

“It’s vastly different,” he said.

“It still comes down to the same thing. Any of you could have made the deal with my parents.”

“I suppose that’s true,” he mused. He caught my darkening look. “But we didn’t. It wasn’t the Tylwyth Teg. At least, not the Tylwyth Teg of Cainsville.”