I sat down on the shore, not too close to the water. Dog retreated into the undergrowth and hunkered down to wait for me. The wood was hushed; the birds knew it was a place of deep mystery, and within the shade of these trees they did not sing. So, how to summon Conmael? When Grim had needed our fey friend, he’d cursed him, shouting. I was disinclined to attempt that approach.

I was considering the right words to use when my skin prickled, I looked up, and there he was, two paces away, tall and pale in his dark cloak, gazing down at me with an expression of mild amusement. I rose in a measured fashion, not wanting to show that he’d unnerved me.

“Conmael.”

“Blackthorn. You need me?”

Could the man see right into my mind, every moment of every day? “I have a question for you, concerning our agreement.”

“Ask it, then.”

I explained what Donagan had told us. “While I have absolutely no desire to spend time at court, let alone that much time, under the terms of my promise to you I am bound to assist Lady Flidais if she asks for my help.”

Conmael made no reply, simply fixed me with his deep blue eyes and lifted his brows as if well aware that this was only part of the truth. He was handsome after the manner of the fey, his features high-boned and haughty, his nose straight, his mouth thin-lipped but not devoid of humor. His crow’s-wing hair was not loose today, but gathered at the nape by a silver cord. His long fingers wore shining rings worked with signs I could not decipher.

“I have a great deal of respect for Lady Flidais,” I added. “I would help her even without the obligation under which you’ve placed me. But I believe our agreement included a requirement that I live here at Winterfalls. A lengthy stay at Cahercorcan would seem to break the terms.”

“You wouldn’t enjoy court,” said Conmael. “All those folk, all those rules.”

“I don’t need reminding of that.”

“Why go, then? Are not the king’s physicians capable?”

“Conmael. It is a simple question. Would my spending two or three turnings of the moon away from Winterfalls constitute a breach of our agreement?”

Conmael gave a wintry smile. He folded his arms. “If my memory serves me well,” he said, “the requirement was to stay within the borders of Dalriada and not to travel south toward Laois. To stay away from Mathuin. And, yes, to live at Winterfalls, but that part of it is not binding—provided you do not leave Dalriada, I see no reason why you should not travel about, going wherever there is a need for your services. I would expect you back at Winterfalls on the fourth full moon, if not before.”

“Or . . . ?”

“Surely I need not spell it out for you, Blackthorn.”

“The term of our agreement becomes longer. And my chances fewer.”