Out in the dark water, something stirred. Ripples spread out, catching the moonlight. She rose, spluttering and gasping, her dark hair like a mermaid’s over her shoulders, her eyes huge and shocked in her deathly white face. She struggled a moment, hampered by her long gown, then struck out toward the shore. There was no knowing, yet, which woman had emerged from the pool.

Another disturbance, another head coming up, this time Bramble’s. She swam as a dog swims, untidily, following her mistress in. Without any awareness of having moved, I was at the water’s edge. The woman waded to the shallows, shuddering with cold. Her gown clung to her, revealing plainly the lovely form beneath. The body I had enjoyed for two long nights in that time of utter madness. I felt my face grow hot.

The woman halted in knee-deep water, staring at me. She moved her hands to cover herself, one across her breasts, the other lower down. It was Flidais. Without a doubt, it was my lady.

‘Prince Oran.’ Blackthorn put something in my hands. A cloak. Flidais’s fur-lined cloak. As my beloved stepped up toward me, I reached to put it around her shoulders.

‘Oran,’ said Flidais through chattering teeth, and it was the loveliest sound I had ever heard. ‘My love, my dear, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry you have had to go through this.’ She reached up a hand to brush my cheek. ‘Don’t weep, beloved.’ She was crying too; tears flooded down her perfect face. ‘It’s all my fault,’ she said. ‘If I had not taken it into my head to swim that day . . .’

‘Morrigan’s britches!’ murmured Grim. ‘Who’d have thought it?’

Bramble was crouched on the shore, wet through and shivering. Donagan attempted to pick her up, then cursed as she sank her teeth into his hand.

‘I’ll take her,’ Blackthorn said. ‘She knows better than to bite me. Now, it’s freezing cold, and Lady Flidais needs to get warm straight away. You’d best come to our cottage, sit by the fire awhile, and have some food and drink before you go back to Winterfalls.’ She glanced at Mhairi. ‘You’ll all have some matters to consider.’

‘Thank you, Mistress Blackthorn.’ Wrapped in the cloak, sheltered by my arm, Flidais sounded steadier now. ‘We owe you far more than we can ever repay. You’ve taken a great risk in order to right this wrong. And yes, it is indeed cold; a sojourn by your hearth fire would be most welcome.’ She gazed up at the moon. ‘We have been fortunate, I believe. Fortunate that whatever spirit dwells here has looked on us with kindness tonight. We should be mindful of that.’

‘We will return here, my love,’ I said. ‘Say prayers. Make offerings.’