The woman clicked her long white fingers, and the other person stepped up beside the gate, holding the bundle for my scrutiny. I was not tall enough to look over the top of the gate, so I peered between the woven twigs and branches, trying to position the brand without setting fire to anything. Within the folds of gray, a baby slept peacefully. Rosebud lips; a decisive nose; a lock of dark hair. My breath caught in my throat. It really was Finbar. Only a step away. I didn’t even need to leave the sanctuary of the clearing. All that was required was to unlatch the gate, put one foot out and take him in my arms.

“You will not have to face the Lord of the Oak,” the woman said. “Take your brother now and make your escape before Mac Dara learns of your presence, and you can be back at Sevenwaters by morning. The path home is easier.”

Mac Dara? The Lord of the Oak was the same person as the devious prince of the old tales? How could I possibly face up to such a legendary figure, surely one of the most powerful forces in the Otherworld? I should snatch this opportunity and get away as soon as I could. “I thought this would be an exchange,” I made myself say. “The . . .” I would not call Becan a changeling. “The other child for my brother.”

There was a little silence. “No need for that,” the woman said. “Come, step through the gate.”

Was she saying that against all expectation I could take both babies home to Sevenwaters with me? That I could spare Becan the uncertainty of a future amongst folk who were prepared to give him away, and save my brother as well? If I did not seize this chance I would regret it forever.

“All right,” I said, and reached to unfasten the gate. It was awkward with the fire stick in my hands.

“Clodagh!” A shout, and running footsteps behind me. A hand snatching the burning brand from me, another grabbing my fingers and wrenching them from the latch. “What are you doing?”

“No, Cathal! Let me go! You don’t understand, they have Finbar—” I struggled to get my fingers on the gate, but Cathal had dragged me back out of reach. Now he had his arm around my waist from behind, his grip iron strong. “Let me go!” I sobbed. “He’s just there, I can reach him! Cathal, please!”

On the far side of the hedge the woman in gray stood silent, eyes fixed on us. She watched awhile as I fought and pleaded, then she spoke again. Her frosty tone turned me still and silent in Cathal’s arms.

“As a guardian, you do a poor job,” she observed. “You almost let her drown. Now you sleep while she wanders.”