Still there was no sound but the music, no movement but her own.

At the top of the stairs there was another long corridor, as wide as the space two grown men would make were they laid head to foot. To her left as she traveled along the corridor was a door of topaz, and to the right, one of emerald. Straight ahead was a third that glowed white as pearls.

And it was from there that the music came.

She opened the white door and stepped inside.

Flowers twined and tangled up the walls. Tables the size of lakes groaned under the weight of platters filled with food. The scents were sensuous.

The floor was a mosaic, a symphony of jewels placed in random patterns.

There were chairs and cushions and plush sofas, but all were empty. All but the throne at the room’s head. There, lounging in the grandeur, was a man in a silver doublet.

“You never hesitated,” he said. “There’s courage in that. Not once did you think of turning around. You just walked straight into what’s unknown to you.”

He offered her a smile, and with a wave of his hand, the gold apple that appeared in it. “You may have a taste for this.”

“I may, but I haven’t a century to spare you.”

He laughed, and flicking his fingers, vanished the apple. “I wouldn’t have let you, as I’ve more use for you above than here.”

Curious, she turned in a circle. “Are you alone, then?”

“Not alone, no. Even faeries like to sleep. The light was to guide you. It’s night here, as it is in your world. I wanted to speak with you, and preferred to do so alone.”

“Well, then.” She lifted her arms, let them fall. “I’m here.”

“I’ve a question for you, Mary Brenna O’Toole.”

“I’ll try to answer it, Carrick, Prince of Faeries.”

His lips twitched again with amused approval, but his eyes were intense and sober as he leaned toward her. “Would you take a pearl from a lover?”

An odd question indeed, she thought. But after all, it was a dream, and she’d had stranger ones. “I would, if it was given freely.”

With a sigh, he tapped his hand on the wide arm of his throne. The ring he wore flashed silver and blue. “Why is it there are always strings attached to answers when dealing with mortals?”

“Why is it faeries are never satisfied with an honest answer?”

Humor brightened his eyes. “You’re a bold one, aren’t you? It’s a fortunate thing I’ve a fondness for mortals.”

“I know you have.” She walked closer now. “I’ve seen your lady. She pines for you. I don’t know if that heavies your heart or lightens it, but it’s what I know.”

Resting his chin on his feet, he brooded. “I know her heart, now that it’s too late for me to do much more than wait. Must there be pain in love before there’s fulfillment?”