“You could at least express a little gratitude that I appeared just when you needed someone to make a fire and cook supper,” he said lightly. “Forget those things. They’re in the past; talking about them can’t change anything. Clodagh, where are you running to? You must know your father will send men out to bring you back. You can’t keep ahead of them on foot.”

I didn’t answer. He’d given me no reason to trust him.

Cathal sighed. “All right, I’ll put my theory to you, and you can tell me if I’m right. You think to return the changeling to the place where it came from and bargain to get your brother back. You’re going on your own because nobody believed you when you told them what this child was. Since changelings are supposed to originate from the Otherworld, that’s where you’re intending to go. Only you don’t know the way, so you’re wandering around at random hoping to stumble on it before you and the child die of cold or hunger or are apprehended by Lord Sean’s search parties. An accurate summary? Don’t look at me like that, Clodagh, it suggests you think I lack the wits to make a few simple deductions.”

“You make me sound foolish, Cathal. I’m doing the best I can.”

After a moment he said, “I know that. But this won’t be the same as smoothing sheets and preparing the perfect supper, you realize.”

I blinked at him. “This?” I asked. “What, exactly?”

“What comes next,” said Cathal, using a finger to scoop the last scraps of sodden bread from the bottom of the little pot. “It’s going to be difficult. Dangerous. As long as you understand that.”

“That really isn’t your concern,” I told him, wishing he could have waited until the sun was up before putting this into words. “Of course I know it’s dangerous. All the stories of the Otherworld make that quite clear. And I don’t want to go. But I’m going anyway. I don’t see any other choice.”

“No, I suppose you wouldn’t,” Cathal said quietly, and when I glanced over, he was almost smiling.

“That’s right, mock my attempt to make things better,” I said. “You need put up with me only until dawn, Cathal. Then we can go our separate ways. Indeed, perhaps you shouldn’t wait so long; you’re perilously close to the keep still. The longer you stay with me and Becan, the greater your chances of being captured. I can’t help you; I can only hinder you.”

“That’s true enough; you can’t help me,” Cathal said flatly, his eyes turned away now to stare into the darkness under the oaks. “But I think I can help you.”