“Can we start walking, at least? Or do you plan to stand here arguing the point until Aidan’s hounds come running up and sink their teeth into us?”

“All right. Take me to wherever you think the portal is. Let’s put that to the test and worry about the other part later.” I had fastened Becan into the sling. I reached out for my bag, but Cathal put it under his arm.

“I’ll carry this; you’ve got him to manage. Ready?”

“No. But I’m going anyway.”

He gave a lopsided smile. “Come on, then. I have a feeling it won’t be far.”

I followed Cathal in a direction I judged to be roughly north-west. We did not go by visible tracks, but took a dodging, swerving, zigzagging course between the rocks and trees. Cathal moved as if he knew where he was going. I suspected his apparent confidence had more to do with maintaining a semblance of control than anything else. No outsider knew the way through the Sevenwaters forest. They couldn’t. For them, the way never stayed the same. Silently, I prayed that the Fair Folk would reveal a portal to us sooner rather than later.

From time to time I heard the dogs somewhere behind us, not getting much closer, but not moving away either, and I wondered if Aidan was using the same techniques as Cathal for finding a path across the difficult terrain in this part of the woods. There were deceptive slopes that proved far steeper than they looked; rocks that jutted out in just the wrong places to provide secure purchase for hand or foot; sudden patches of sucking bog hidden beneath dark mats of last autumn’s decaying leaf litter. We crossed a stream on a narrow log, Cathal taking the two packs over then returning with sure-footed confidence to grasp my hand and guide me across. I remembered him balancing along a dry-stone wall with Eilis and Coll. Eilis . . . I had not seen my little sister since Finbar was taken.

“What?” asked Cathal, scrutinizing my face as I stepped down to safety on the far bank.

“Nothing. Are we getting any closer?”

“I’m heading for the river. It can’t be far from here.”

My heart sank. “What river? There is no river, only the seven streams. The outflow from the lake is at the eastward end, far from here.” I remembered what Sibeal had said about the meeting of earth and water, and how doors to the Otherworld would likely be found where this occurred. A moment later I recalled something else she had said: that I would not be undertaking my quest alone.

“No river,” said Cathal flatly. “I was certain . . . Never mind. I think it’s this way.”