“No,” I breathed. “No! You can’t do this!” But Mac Dara was smiling. His trick had worked. He had killed Becan without a qualm, just to make me scream. He had known my scream would summon his son; he had known Cathal could not hear it and hold back. Cathal had come to my rescue. He had set his foot inside the door, knowing that once he did so his father could keep him in the Otherworld forever. He had sacrificed his future for me.

“Welcome home, my son,” said Mac Dara. “You have made this hard work. I must confess to a certain pride in the way you’ve managed to evade me all these years. You have indeed proven yourself worthy to be my successor.” He was looking almost affable now; his arms were stretched out as if offering his son an embrace.

Cathal turned his head to one side and spat on the floor. “I have no father,” he said.

“You can’t go back, of course,” Mac Dara drawled, “not now you’ve set your foot inside my hall. My spell craft is without peer; you will not break through the barriers I have set around you. But why would you want to leave? A future as prince and ruler awaits you here, a life such as the human world could never have provided for a man of your humble origins. Right now you may think you don’t want it, but that won’t last. You’ll change. This place will change you. Deep down you already know the truth, my son. Under the surface you’re just like me.”

“Go, Clodagh.” Cathal’s voice trembled. “Take him and go.”

“I suppose we could keep the girl,” the Lord of the Oak said in conversational tones. “I can see you’re attached to her. She’s a bold little thing; I like redheads. In fact, she might come in useful for ensuring your compliance until you understand your new role here. You arrived quickly enough when you heard she was in trouble. Ah, love; what fools it makes of us! You and your little piece here; she and her wretched changeling . . . Then there’s Lord Sean’s heir. I had planned to send the child back, but he could still be useful to us.” He turned a considering gaze on the small form of Finbar, lying on the seat where I had dropped him without a thought for his welfare.

“Go, Clodagh,” Cathal said. “My brave girl. My remarkable girl. Please go now.” He removed his hands from my arms. Without looking, I could tell that he was crying.