“That is true, but she understands more about the world than you ever did. And I’m thinking that maybe that’s why she ascended. Maybe we need someone who can remind us of our place in the world.”

“We. Are. The. Fae. That is our place in the world!” Why couldn’t he see that? How could he have forgotten that?

Connor looked at her with open dislike. “You and Lucian both did well enough as leaders when you only had to deal with the Fae, but you played with the Brightwood witch as if her life were a casual amusement, and what came of that? The Blacks Coats. That’s what came of it. And the only one who tried to help her was the Lord of the Horse.”

“And it killed him.”

“It killed him because he was the only one in the fight.”

Dianna stared at him. “You’re blaming Lucian…and me…for that?”

Connor looked away. Stared hard at the Clan house in the distance. Finally, reluctantly, “No, I’m not blaming you and Lucian for that. We all share the blame, and the shame, of having lost the witch. If we’d made the effort to know her before last summer, maybe it would have made a difference. And I’m thinking that if we’d listened to the Bard and the Gatherer a year ago, some of the Clans that have disappeared since spring would still be with us, would still be able to do something to change things.”

“You think too much,” Dianna said, but a ball of sickness started forming in her belly.

“A man has plenty of time to think on long winter nights.”

She shuddered. She was not going to spend a winter in the cottage at Brightwood. She wasn’t.

Connor continued to stare at the Clan house. “But you wouldn’t know about that. You wouldn’t know about the struggle to build a mean little place to live that doesn’t quite keep out the cold sea winds. You wouldn’t know about not having quite enough to eat or making do with blankets that are fine in Tir Alainn but aren’t warm enough in the human world. No, you stayed away and let Lyrra learn those things.”

“I was the Lady of the Moon and had duties to all the Fae. It was Lyrra’s selfishness—”

“Lyrra wasn’t from our Clan. She didn’t have to stay as long as she did. She didn’t have to stay at all. And as the Muse, she had duties to all the Fae, too. If she’d left us during the winter, we wouldn’t have blamed her. We didn’t blame her when she did leave this spring. At least, none of us at Brightwood. But I’ve been hearing plenty on this journey, Dianna. Hearing about how you twisted the way of things—”

“I twisted nothing!”