Croi breathes heavily, too shocked to do anything more. She’s still alive. That much she’s certain of. Just in case, she pinches herself. Yes, it hurts. So she’s definitely alive, which means she survived taking the dryad’s name. She has no idea how she managed this feat, but she’s not going to complain. She can still feel the name in her chest—like a hot needle. Uncomfortable but not impossible. She swallows and looks at the dryad, foolish pride lifting her chin.

Croi expects her to be angry, but Uaine confounds her. She smiles—no, a smile is a rather pallid description; she beams at Croi, her light reacting to her suddenly ebullient mood and brightening.

“What now?” Croi asks, readying herself.

“Now I will tell you a story,” the dryad says, sitting back down on the ground and getting comfortable.

“Story?” Croi frowns. “A tale?”

“Some people would call it a legend and others, history. Will you listen?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“No, not really.” Uaine smiles sweetly.

“In that case, I’m all ears,” Croi replies.

“Once upon a time, I had two sisters—” Uaine begins.

“Do you no longer?” Croi interrupts. The dryad gives her a long stare. “I’m just asking. Sorry. Please continue.”

“My sisters and I protected the magick of Talamh and the lives of the kin who call it home,” the dryad says softly.

“Oh no.” Croi closes her eyes and holds up her free hand to hide her face.

“What?” Uaine says flatly.

“I’m getting ready for the twist. It’s obvious you no longer protect Talamh and your sisters are nowhere to be seen.” Croi keeps her eyes closed. “Go on!”

“Things happened. My sisters and I broke up. My youngest sister remained in Talamh while my middle sister and I left,” Uaine finishes.

Croi opens her eyes. “That’s it? That’s your story?”

“What else did you expect?”

“Well, you started it with so much pomp…” She trails off when she sees Uaine’s glare. “Why are you telling me this story anyway?” Her emphasis on the word makes a question out of it.

The frivolity fades from Uaine’s face, and her regard for Croi becomes serious. “You say you’ve spent your entire life in the human world, yes?” Croi nods and she continues. “What do you know about the Otherworld? To be specific, do you know the origin of the four elemental kingdoms of the Otherworld?”

Croi nods. She had been reluctant to learn, but the Hag had taught her anyway. She recites obediently, “The great warrior Fionar and her companions, tired of the constant bloodshed among the kin as they grappled for power and the right to rule the Otherworld, sacrificed themselves to separate the one magick into four different magicks, thereby severing the united lands of the Otherworld into four different elemental kingdoms.”

“And the Saol ceremony?” Uaine prompts in a decidedly Hag-ish way. Croi gives her a sharp look but decides to continue being obedient. Uaine’s teeth are very sharp.

“The Saol ceremony is conducted every seventeen years to ensure the elemental magicks remain separated.” Croi regurgitates what the Hag taught her.