Aiden couldn’t hear a reply, but a moment later, a man strode into the courtyard. He had sable hair that fell to his shoulders and dark eyes full of sharp intelligence—and more than a little annoyance. A tall man, with a honed body that moved with sleek grace, yet gave the impression of suppressed violence, like the sea on the edge of a storm.

The man was definitely Fae, but Aiden felt uneasy the moment he saw him. He rose to face the stranger.

“Who are you?” the stranger demanded.

“Aiden. The Lord of Song.”

“The Bard, is it? I’m Murtagh, the Lord of the Selkies. I was looking for the Hunter, but you’ll do for now.”

“Will I?”

Murtagh flashed a feral smile that made Aiden wish for a large knife and the skill to use it. He had the feeling Murtagh possessed both.

“When you’ve the time, Bard, I’d appreciate it if you’d come by Selkie Island and give the minstrels there a bit of encouragement. We’ve a handful of them on the island, and there’s not one of them that will lift his ass to fart let alone learn a new song. Don’t any of you write anything new?”

“Occasionally,” Aiden said dryly.

Murtagh eyed Taihg. “If you’re too busy, you could send another bard.”

“I get seasick,” Taihg said quickly.

Murtagh sighed. “Well, see what you can do. I’ve been hearing the same songs since I was a boy. I’d throw the lot of them into the sea, but they’re selkies, too, so it wouldn’t gain me anything.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Aiden said, “but there are other concerns right now.”

“True enough.” Murtagh raked a hand through his hair. “There’s talk, Bard, and I don’t like what I’m hearing.”

“What have you heard?”

“That witches are being killed by men called Black Coats. That the Old Places are being taken over by humans, and the Small Folk are being driven out.”

“It’s true.”

“Well…Mother’s tits! Why aren’t the Mother’s Daughters going up the shining roads to escape and letting the Fae deal with the bastards?”

“The Fae in the east of Sylvalan refused to do anything to help the witches—and now the Fae are lost as well, trapped in their Clan territories in Tir Alainn after the shining roads closed. If they’re surviving at all.”

Murtagh stared at him. Then he swore softly. “If that’s the case, they’ve gotten what they deserve.”

Aiden studied Murtagh with more interest. “Would you allow a witch into your Clan’s piece of Tir Alainn?”