“An interesting question, which I might debate with you at length, Sibeal, had we the time for it.” There was respect in Willow’s eyes as they rested on my sister. “Of course, it is only a tale. But Mac Dara is in many tales. They say he’s a creature of Connacht, in the west. Of course, the realm of the Tuatha De stretches across the length and breadth of Erin, and it’s laid out much as our own land is, so there’s no reason why Mac Dara should not turn up at Sevenwaters if he chooses, nor any bar on your Lady of the Forest paying him a visit in his home territory. It’s said that the Tuatha De are fading before a great tide of change. Sevenwaters is old. It’s housed such folk long after their havens in other parts have disappeared. But the grand ones, the noble ones, are passing away, perhaps to the isles of the west, perhaps into memory, child. And when the wise ones depart, what’s left is Mac Dara and his like. The realm of the Fair Folk is a darker place than it once was. A little seer might go out to seek wisdom in the clear water of a forest pool, and instead of the lovely lady who used to appear to give her guidance, all she might get is a selfish creature like Albha. You should take care. We should all take care.”

Sibeal said nothing, but she looked stricken. Perhaps there was truth in those odd rumors after all.

Willow told of a time when the fey woman and her half-human daughter came almost face-to-face, so close that as Saorla fled away toward the nearest settlement of men, she could hear her mother’s voice behind her, sharp as glass, as Albha cast a spell:

“Cross the river left then right
Mortal world fades out of sight
Step into the field of time
Fall so far you cannot climb
Sorrow’s pathway tread in tears
Paved with sadness, doubts and fears
At the gate of thorn entwined
Say farewell to humankind
Set your foot inside the door
You’ll be mine forever more . . .”

The tale was not yet finished, but I saw Muirrin at the back of the hall beckoning to me, and I excused myself.

Mother had asked to see me. When I reached her chamber she was feeding the baby. Finbar was beating time to an inaudible tune against the pearly flesh of her breast, all the time sucking busily. I drew up a stool beside the bed, and with an effort Mother took her eyes off the child and turned them on me.