“Because it made me realize I have been a fool,” the pixie bites out.

“Elaborate,” Croi says, sitting down. She wonders where Ceara and her handmaids are.

“Your words earlier, about how the same magick is responsible for so many different things, made me think about everything that I thought I knew about the Great Betrayal and the politics of Talamh. It’s like accepting the sky is blue because I can see it is blue and everyone else agrees it is blue. Then you come along and say the sky is not blue, and we are only perceiving it as such. Of course I wouldn’t believe you.”

What does the sky have to do with anything?

“Let’s just continue listening.”

“When I saw the catkin, two questions popped into my mind: One, what does his presence here mean, and two, were you right all along? The catkin was wearing the uniform of a Talamh soldier, but I’m sure that before that, he put on the uniform of a rebel soldier. You wondered, didn’t you, where the rebel soldiers came from? Why they were all so young? Furthermore, the magick in the Redcap caravan belonged to the kin Ceara met, the one whose identity she won’t tell us.” Tinder takes a deep breath. “What if she is the one who is instigating the Redcaps to kidnap kin from all around Talamh only to send her own forces, the rebel soldiers, to rescue these kidnapped kin? What if her purpose is to blacken the Robber Queen’s name and let the rescued kin and their families idolize her? In this way, she is responsible for both the sickness and its cure.”

Bravo.

Croi grins under her veil. “She has been playing you all for fools.”

“Who do you think she is?” Tinder scowls, the expression sitting wrongly on her delicate face.

“The only person who can make the Fire Princess refuse to accept reality. The only one who could convince Monca to blur the facts. The only person who would summon me, though for what purposes is still beyond me.” Croi thinks about the glimpses she has had of the “princess” the Hag mentioned before she set off on this journey.

“Who?” Tinder thinks, then pales. “Mabh? But she’s dead!”

“Did anyone see her die, Tinder?” Croi asks. “Everyone assumed she did.” Croi rubs her chest, her heart aching again.

“Monca brought word of Mabh’s death. Kin can’t lie, remember?” Tinder argues.

“Do you know the exact words Monca spoke when giving news of Mabh’s passing?” Croi asks.

Tinder starts shaking her head, then stops, her expression complex. “Ceara told me about this. According to her, Monca said, ‘The Talamh princess is no more.’ ”

Croi sneers. “She fooled everyone so easily.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, the brownie mother didn’t lie. The Forever King died, so Mabh was no longer the Talamh princess… but just because the Talamh princess was no more doesn’t mean Mabh is dead.”

Tinder blanches. “Don’t you think Monca would have considered that?”