“Were there people with wings, Clodagh? What kind of horses did they have? And what about the food? In the stories it’s supposed to be so delicious that humans can’t stop themselves from eating it and then they have to stay there forever. Or they get back home and then pine away with longing because human food tastes like ashes.”

“The only thing I tried was water from a stream,” I said, feeling as if I were a disappointment. “It doesn’t seem to have done me any harm.”

“But what about Cathal?” Eilis was insistent. “You said he was there ages and ages. He must have eaten the food.”

“Well, yes,” I said with some reluctance. “But the rules would be different for him.”

“Why—oh, you mean because he’s a sort of half and half?”

“That’s right.”

“And perhaps the reason Clodagh could drink the water safely,” put in Sibeal, “was that there’s one of the Old Ones in our ancestry, so even we have a little thread of the Otherworld in us.”

This had not occurred to me, but alongside the other oddities of the last few days it sounded perfectly plausible.

“Did you see Deirdre of the Forest?” Eilis asked.

“No,” I said. “I thought I did, but it was someone else. Eilis, it may not be a good idea to talk about this too openly, not while there are so many visitors in the house.”

“Can I talk to Coll about it?”

“I doubt if you’ll be able to stop yourself,” I said dryly. “But not if any of Father’s guests are about, do you understand?”

“Yes, Clodagh.” The compliant words were belied by her cheeky grin. Well, I supposed it would be an open secret soon enough, that one of Lord Sean’s daughters was marrying a man who was only half human. This would make it doubly important for Eilis to wed as well as Deirdre had, when her turn came. I wished her a man who would be suitable both in the eyes of the world and in hers.

I went out into the courtyard, wondering whether Cathal, too, had found himself unable to sleep. Strolling down toward the stables, I remembered housing Willow in the little harness room during her visit to our home. I thought again of her strange tales and how I had been so slow to understand their true meanings. The clurichauns, the magical signs hidden in clothing, the significance of green; it should have alerted me to the importance of Cathal’s cloak with its cargo of talismans designed to protect him from his father. Instead, for a little I had believed it might mean he was a traitor. Wolf-child; I had seen Cathal in that tale from the first. I had recognized in it his chill awareness of being forever outside, forever different. As for the story of the fairy woman and her half-human daughter, the charm cast by Albha had been exact in its revelation of what awaited Cathal in the Otherworld. He had understood it; I had failed to do so until it was almost too late. And if I hadn’t left the hall halfway through the tale, perhaps I would have realized right at the start that even the most powerful of charms can be undone, if only one has the key.