“Who’d want to work here?” Grim asked. “With the monster and all? She might have trouble finding folk and keeping them. Might need to look farther afield.”

“At least some of these people have been in the household more than two years. Possibly all of them, though I didn’t ask that directly.”

“There’s what she said about folk losing hope and making an end of themselves. Or moving away. They could’ve had family here and lost them. Didn’t Geiléis say the place was sad and strange even before last summer?”

“Mm. If this isn’t the first time the monster’s come to the tower, the curse might have affected land and people for years and years, even when the tower was empty. That theory is starting to sound almost convincing. These are remarkably loyal folk, Grim. Even if they aren’t being particularly helpful.”

“Men-at-arms are all right. Helping all they can, just haven’t got a lot to say. Best go, hadn’t we? They’re waiting.”

I was still thinking through my conversation with Senach. “Grim, did any of the men mention the little folk? Seeing them in the woods, talking to them?” We had agreed earlier not to say anything that might reveal that Grim had already done both. We would respect the wee man’s request to keep their presence secret. But it seemed likely at least one member of the household would have encountered them at some point. Perhaps I should have asked Senach outright.

“Not a word,” Grim said. “What I expected, really.”

“I didn’t ask Senach, but he said, more or less, that folk might believe the fey were real but they wouldn’t admit it. That was as far as it went.”

“Or they might think it was the curse playing tricks.” Grim’s tone was flat. “Making folk act strange, do things they shouldn’t do.”

“Don’t waste any effort blaming yourself for what happened yesterday. It wasn’t your fault, and if it’s done anything, it’s given us more of an idea of what we’re dealing with. And if the little folk are real, you did them a favor. Which could mean they’ll be well-disposed toward us from now on. That’s a good thing.”

“If you say so. Best be moving, hadn’t we?”

“Don’t forget the wadding, to block your ears.”

I’d requested that we walk to the ford rather than ride, so I could take my time looking around. And I’d asked if we could have as small an escort as Geiléis considered safe, hoping for only one man-at-arms. But despite the presence of Grim, whose formidable stature was enough to frighten away any potential attacker, we’d been given an escort of two: Onchú and another man-at-arms, Donncha.

Geiléis was on the steps to see us off. “Do not be tempted to remove the earplugs,” she warned. “Onchú will tell you when to put them in; you will not need them for the first part of the walk. Once your ears are blocked, you must keep the others in sight at all times. The monster’s call is far more powerful at close quarters. Do not linger on the island long. Do not allow the thorns to pierce your flesh.”