“A human might grasp it as an advanced form of genetic mutation or cloning, without DNA or physical matter to mutate. He tried to create life, MacKayla. And he succeeded. But without the Song of Making.”

“But I thought the Song is life. How could he create life without the Song?”

“Precisely. It was imperfect. Flawed.” He paused. “Yet it lived, and was immortal.”

I got it, and gasped. “He made the Unseelie!”

“Yes. The dark ones are the Seelie King’s children. For thousands of years he experimented, concealing his work from the queen. Their numbers grew, as did their hungers.”

“But his mortal woman must have been long dead by then. What was the point?”

“She was alive, kept so in a cage of his making. But trapped, she withered, so for her, he created the Sifting Silvers and gave her worlds to explore. Although time passes outside them, within them it does not. One might spend a thousand centuries in there, and walk out not one hour older.”

“I thought the mirrors were used for travel between realms.”

“They are used for that, too. The Silvers are . . . complicated things, doubly so, since they were cursed. When the queen felt the power of the Silvers spring into existence, she called the king to court and demanded he destroy them. Creation was her right, not his. In truth, she was disturbed to discover he had grown so powerful. He claimed to have made them as a gift for her, which pleased her, as he had paid her no tribute in eons.

“But the king gave her only a portion of the Silvers. The other he kept hidden from her, for his concubine, where he planted lush gardens and built a great, shining white house upon a hill with hundreds of windows, and thousands of rooms. When his mortal grew restless, he made her the amulet, so she could shape reality with her will. When she complained of loneliness he made her the box.”

“What does it do?”

“I do not know. It has not been seen since.”

“Are you saying he also made her the Book? But why?”

“Patience, human. I tell this tale. The king’s experiments continued. Eons passed. He created more . . . aberrations. Over time, of which we have a fortunate abundance, they began to improve until some of them were as beautiful as any Seelie. The Unseelie royalty were born, the princes and princesses. Dark counterparts to the Light. And like their counterparts, they wanted what was rightfully theirs: power, freedom to come and go, dominion over lesser beings. The king refused. Secrecy was a necessary part of his plan.”

“But someone went to the queen,” I guessed. “One of the Unseelie.”