“I have learned much in this place,” Cathal said, and gave me the sweet, uncomplicated smile that he offered so rarely. “Things my father has never dreamed of, Clodagh. I have seen a boy fishing, and a woman on a bridge with her heart in her eyes. I have seen that my mother possessed a capacity for love equal to yours, and the same extraordinary strength of will. I thought that she had failed me. I believed her weak. It was my joy and my sorrow to discover how wrong I had been.” He cleared his throat and added, “We’d best move without delay. Any more surprises?”

“I have a charm that I can use to conceal us, but only for a short time. I’m supposed to save it until we really need it. Cathal, the spell—the one about setting foot inside the door—that’s vital to our escape. There’s another part to it.” I told him the rest of the verse. “That means there is a way to break the charm, impossible as those lines sound.”

He lifted his brows. “We must make them possible. But first we must reach a portal. You realize he could decide to seek us in his scrying mirror at any moment? I don’t imagine he trusts you any more than he trusts me, the son who refuses to fulfill his expectations. On the other hand he won’t imagine you have so many tricks up your sleeve. You wouldn’t have something to disable the guards, I suppose?”

“Sorry,” I said, as a mixture of excitement and terror seized me. We were really going to do this. We were going to pit ourselves against the Lord of the Oak with his power and his magic and his complete lack of conscience. “You’ll have to do that on your own.”

It was soon apparent that Cathal’s thin, wan appearance did not reflect any fading of his exceptional combat skills. He made me wait inside the cave while he dealt with the guards. I heard muffled shouts, the scuffing of boots on the ground and a squawk, then he was back, only a little out of breath.

“That bird has a sharp beak,” he commented.

“Did he hurt you?”

“Fortunately, he seems to realize I’m on the same side as he is,” Cathal said. “Coming?” He held out his hand and I took it. In his other hand was a dagger that had not been there when he went out. “I won’t kill unless I must,” he added, following my glance. “But my father will be angry, and his anger can be formidable. We’d best run, Clodagh.”

“How can we see the way?” Beyond the last reach of the flickering candles from within the cave there was now a hint of moonlight, but it barely illuminated the path.

“I can see well enough. We’ll follow the bird. Keep hold of my hand.”