How much should she tell him? Would a druid keep a secret, the same as a wise woman? ‘There was a time . . . I heard voices, out in the forest, and they led me to a . . . a hole in the ground. I fell down, and there were things there, creatures, only I couldn’t see them. They told me my father was a liar. They said my whole life was a lie. It was . . . it was the scariest thing that’s ever happened to me. Except this. Except finding out it might be true.’

‘Dear child. And how did you escape?’

‘I found the tree roots, oak roots, and held on. I knew the oak would keep me safe. The trees are my friends. They have been since I was very small. And after a while a dog found me, and two men let down a rope, and I climbed out. There were some birds, too. A crow and some others. They kept those . . . those things . . . away while I was climbing up. They . . . the fey beings . . . wanted me to stay. They would have made me stay. Like he did. The builder. They kept him for fifteen years.’ She was crying again, the tears flowing with the words. ‘From not long after his child was born, right through until the start of this spring.’

Master Oisin had an odd expression on his face. She could tell he didn’t think she was just making it up. He looked at her with . . . wonder.

‘Birds do follow me around,’ Cara said, dabbing her cheeks with the cloth. ‘They come close. Especially when I’m up in a tree. Closer than they would for most folk.’

‘I think you have answered your own question, my dear. What a remarkable tale. Stranger far than the one I told.’

Cara thought of Wolf Glen, her father, Gormán. Gormán had lied to her. That was the hardest part to believe. She thought of the wild man and how he had looked at her so hungrily. ‘I’m scared to go there and talk to him. My father. Both of them. But I have to. I have to know. Why my parents did it, how they did it. How could my father even think of such a thing?’

‘That, only he can tell you. Cara, do not forget what I said before. Take your time over this. And do not go alone. Take a friend with you. A witness and protector. Ask Mistress Blackthorn if she will go, with her friend Grim. I would be your companion myself, but sadly I am here for one night only, then must travel on.’

‘Grim is at Wolf Glen already. The wild man – the builder – has crippled hands; he’s telling Grim what to do, and Grim is building the heartwood house.’

‘Then you have a friend in place.’