“Mm-hm,” Grim said. “Don’t much care for Conmael. But he did me a favor, that day. And he’s never asked me for a thing.”

“Maybe he just hasn’t got around to it yet. The fey live long lives. They have long memories.” Something was teasing at me, something I’d seen or heard long ago. The harder I tried to capture it, the more it eluded me. That trip to the tower, the stone hurled down, the wall of thorns . . . Why had it disturbed me so badly? My hands were shaking. I wrapped my arms around myself so Grim would not see it. What was wrong with me?

“Shawl,” Grim said. “Put it on till you’ve warmed up a bit more. Brew should help.”

My anger boiled up again. “What, have you got eyes in the back of your head now?” I snarled. “Stop being so understanding!”

Grim set two cups on the table. Put the honey jar beside them, with a spoon. Went back to the fire to see if the water was hot enough. “Back home,” he said in his own time, “I’d say busy yourself with something: cutting herbs, making a potion, scrubbing the floor. Stops your mind turning in circles. Works the anger out of you. Can’t do that here.” He fetched the meager supply of herbs I had brought home on our first day. He shredded peppermint and chamomile leaves into the cups. “You did good,” he said. “Even if you did nearly get yourself killed. That stone, it’s a clue. If we can work out what it means.”

“The person with the ax is a woman—see, a skirt? It fits with what Geiléis has already told us. The sun might mean midsummer. Or midday. The part I don’t understand is this other figure. Is it the monster? What is it doing?”

“Could be two folk up there.”

“Who’d want to be shut in with that screaming? But yes, I suppose there could be. If there isn’t, the monster must have made this picture and thrown the stone. That doesn’t tell me what I’m meant to do when I reach the top of the tower.” I pictured myself with ax in hand, hacking a way through the thorns. Climbing the tower. Facing this creature with no idea of what to do next. If I was looking for a good reason to abandon Geiléis’s quest before midsummer and slip away south with Flannan, this most certainly was it.

“Creature’s fey, isn’t it? The fey are full of tricks. Could be this is another one. That picture on the stone might not mean what you think at all.” Grim looked at me sideways. “You going to show Lady Geiléis?”

“Not before I have another good look at it. But yes, I suppose I must show her. I expect she’ll want a full report.” I got up, fetched my shawl from the peg and wrapped it around me. He was right; the simple warmth of it made me feel better. “Grim?”