He gave me one of his affected shrugs. “It is life. It is that from which we come. It is the ultimate power to create, to destroy, depending on how it is used. It sings into existence . . . change.”

“As opposed to stasis.”

“Exactly,” he said. Then his eyes narrowed, “You mock me.”

“Only a little. Do Fae really only understand those two things?”

A sudden, icy breeze buffeted the terrace and tiny crystals of frost settled over my plate. “Our perception is not limited, sidhe-seer. It is so vast it defies your paltry language, as does my name. It is because we comprehend so much that we must distill things to their essential natures. Do not presume to think you understand our nature. Though we have long consorted with your race, we have never shown our true face. It is impossible for you to truly behold us. If I showed you—” He stopped abruptly.

“Showed me what, V’lane?” I said softly. I popped a bite of cracker spread with lightly frosted caviar in my mouth. I’d never had it before. I wouldn’t be having it again. Rhino-boy was more palatable. I hastily downed a strawberry chased by a gulp of champagne.

He offered me a smile. He’d been practicing. It was smoother, less alien. The day heated up again; the frost melted. “Irrelevant. You wanted to know of our origins.”

I wanted to know about the Book. But I was eager to hear anything else he was willing to share. “How do you know the history of your race, if you’ve drunk from the cauldron?”

“We have stores of knowledge. After drinking, most seek immediately to become reacquainted with who and what we are.”

“You forget to remember.” How strange. And how awful, I thought, to be so paranoid, to have lived so long madness settled in. To be reborn but never truly wiped clean. To come back fearful, in a place of such strange and treacherous politics. “The Seelie King wanted more,” I prompted.

“Yes. He envied the queen the Song of Making, and petitioned her to teach it to him. He had become enamored of a mortal of whom he did not wish to be deprived until he had sated his desire for her. It did not appear to be waning. She was . . . different to him. I would merely have substituted another. He asked the queen to make her Fae.”

“Can the queen do that? Make someone Fae?”

“I do not know. The king believed she could. The queen refused, and the king tried to steal from her that which he sought. When she caught him, she punished him. Then she waited for his obsession to pale. It did not. He began . . . experimenting on lesser Fae, in hopes of teaching himself the Song.”

“What kind of experiments?”