“You have several challenges ahead of you, Clodagh. Getting in may be quite easy. Finding Mac Dara may not be difficult, that’s if he believes you are no threat to him. Gaining access to Cathal could be hard. If Mac Dara thinks there is any chance his son may still want to escape the Otherworld, he’s unlikely to want him to see you. But he’ll have been working on Cathal. He may use this as a test. If Cathal meets you and remains indifferent, or if he fails to recognize you, Mac Dara will know he’s got his son back body and mind.”

I felt cold all through. “You’re saying that if I ask to see him and Mac Dara says yes, it probably means Cathal has forgotten me?”

“Perhaps. If there’s one thing you should remember in there, it’s that nothing is what it seems. Expect tricks, puzzles, mysteries. Remember that love is the only truth. Now let us imagine you succeed in finding Cathal, and that he wants to escape. Your next challenge is likely to be Mac Dara’s capacity to see you, wherever you go. Such a one can summon whatever he wishes to the scrying bowl. He can follow you into the most secret places; he can spy on your most intimate moments. To flee from an individual who possesses such power is nigh on impossible unless he chooses to let you go.”

“There was a safe place,” I said. “A place of the Old Ones, protected by a hedge of thorn. I don’t think he could see us there. And when I went into his pavilion, he didn’t seem to know where Cathal was, even though I had left him not far away in the forest.”

“You could retreat within the hedge, yes,” said Ciarán, as if he knew the place. “But he would guess where you had gone. He would send his henchmen to wait for you just beyond the barrier. The Old Ones could not lead you back to their portal without venturing out into Mac Dara’s territory. You would be trapped. If I could be with you, I could keep you concealed until you were safely out. But I will not go there, Clodagh; now is not the time for that. Take this, and use it only when you must.” He passed me the egg-shaped stone, which felt smooth and cool in my hand. “Throw it to the ground and it will provide concealment for a time. It will not hide you long; you must choose your moment carefully.”

“I will,” I said, stowing the stone in my bag and trying not to look astonished. However accomplished my uncle might be as a druid, I had not expected him to be in possession of an item so like a sorcerer’s charm.