“All that you need is here.” Our guide made a sweeping gesture encompassing the space within the hedge. “Make wise use of it. Be ready at tomorrow’s sunset, and remember what I said. He’ll be more inclined to listen if you look your best. Pity about those cuts on your face.”

I sensed that Cathal was about to speak unwisely, and got in first. “You brought our things,” I said, profound relief sweeping through me. “I can feed the baby . . . Thank you. We are most grateful.”

“Hmm,” said Dog Mask. “If you’d been prepared to listen, you’d have lost him long ago. There will be tears before this is over, mark my words. Now I’ll be gone. When it’s time I’ll come for you. Don’t stray. Within the hedge of thorn you will be safe. Beyond it, risk is everywhere. Farewell for now.” It melted away before our eyes.

Whoever had prepared this spot for us had done so with surprising care. Not only had all our supplies been returned to us, but our spare clothing was clean and dry, our water-skins had been refilled, and the roll of bedding proved to contain three thick blankets. There were garments in the bottom of my pack that had not been there before. I fished out a fine shift, a gown of pale green wool with butterflies embroidered around the hem in stitches so tiny a mouse might have made them, and a gossamer-soft shawl. Someone, it seemed, not only wanted us to complete our quest, but intended us to do it in style.

I asked Cathal to turn his back while I got out of my wet things and put on shift, gown and shawl. He obeyed. This did not prevent me from imagining him watching me undress, and wondering what he might be thinking as he did so. When I was done, I averted my gaze while he changed into his spare outfit. Everything I needed for Becan was there, and when I had fed him he fell into a deep, contented sleep. I hung our wet things over the bushes while Cathal made up a brew of hot water and dried meat. We sat down close to the fire to eat it. It felt so good to be dry. The soft fabric of the green gown was bliss against my bruised skin; the warmth of the fire was balm to my weary body. The watery brew tasted like ambrosia. Across the flames Cathal and I regarded each other warily.

“So,” he said, “you have friends here.”

“I think that creature is a distant relation,” I said.

His brows went up.