“My child…,” she said absently, as though his words were some mystery to be solved. “Oh…Bryony.”

“Yes, Bryony. Our daughter. She’s six name days old, with the lovely features of her mother. She has your mind, too. She’s smart as a whip. Strong too. She plays games with the boys and often bests them.”

“I know who she is.” There was a coldness in her tone now.

“I’m glad. Then you need to find a way through this. If not for me, for her. Please, I’m begging you.”

“A way through…yes…that is what I must do. Break the cycle and protect my daughter. Why not? Where my predecessor failed, I must succeed. And it must happen tonight, when the sun refuses to sleep.”

Her words were just as nonsensical as any she’d ever spoken before, but Cainan drew hope from the conviction in them—that she would protect their daughter. If he could only keep reminding Cora of Bryony, then maybe that love could be the antidote to whatever madness was slowly consuming her on the inside.

Like she’d read his mind, Bryony chose that very moment to appear, bursting through the door with the sort of boundless energy only a child could maintain, tumbling breathlessly into the room. She flew past him and into her mother’s waiting arms. Cora looked at Cainan over her shoulder, eyes unfocused.

As though she were looking right through him.

Later that day

The rest of the day and the hours into the early evening had been almost…normal. Bryony had demanded constant attention from both her parents, so they alternated reading her stories, playing games, and including her in their daily chores. They ate supper together, laughing at Bryony’s story about a frog she’d caught after a mad chase along the banks of the pond located just outside the village.

Cora had been tucking Bryony in and singing her a lullaby when Cainan had stepped outside to dispose of the water they’d used for washing their dinner dishes. The evening had a strange lightness to it, the sun seeming to hesitate on the horizon, as though undecided whether it would slip beneath for its nightly slumber. He watched it for a long moment before shrugging and heading back inside. The moment he reentered the warmth of their cozy little home he knew something was wrong.

It was too quiet, for one. And there was a faint breeze wafting through the room, the curtains Cora had spent so much time sewing and installing blowing inward. The window was open. It had definitely not been open before.

Their home wasn’t large, so it took less than a minute for Cainan to search it. He found Bryony fast asleep in her bed, while their own was empty and undisturbed, the covers neatly pulled all the way up to the pillows, just as they’d left it that morning.

By the time he’d returned to the main living space, Cainan had come to only one conclusion: Cora was gone.