“Who knows? Midsummer Eve is almost here and still I have almost nothing to go on. If this manuscript doesn’t yield any clues, I’d be plain stupid to walk into the tower not even knowing what I’m supposed to do when I get there. Get eaten, perhaps. The curse might only be broken if the creature dines on human flesh.”

Donncha made no reply, and we rode on. It was almost evening; the distant cries of the creature in the tower were growing fainter. I remembered something.

“You spoke of a favor,” I said. “What favor?”

“Two things,” said Donncha. “I don’t ask that you go ahead with the task on Midsummer Eve, regardless of what is in the manuscript; that is for Lady Geiléis to say. We all want the curse lifted, Mistress Blackthorn. We serve Lady Geiléis and we want her to be happy again. But . . . it’s Ana and the child. The old man too. After you’ve done it, after midsummer, will you go to the monks and ask them to help her? She won’t do it herself. But even if the curse changes everything, even if hope is restored to Bann, Ana’s going to need looking after. Little Fursa’s gravely ill, isn’t he?”

“I won’t shield you from the truth. He’s very ill indeed, and it’s not a malady that can be cured, even by the most skilled healers in all Erin. I think Ana knows, or guesses, what lies ahead.”

“She’ll need friends. Support. Practical help. I can’t be sure her neighbors will step in. Will you go to St. Olcan’s and ask them, Mistress Blackthorn? Not now, but afterward?”

I could not make sense of this. Nor could I say yes, since I planned to leave Bann straight after the deed—whatever it was—was done. And that was a detail I did not want anyone but Flannan to know, because the more folk were aware of it, the greater the likelihood of Grim finding out. “Why not now? And why me? Why can’t you ask them? Besides, you’ll be here—you’ll still be able to help her. Or are you thinking Lady Geiléis might order you to stop riding over there? If she does, she’s not doing a very good job as chieftain.” That was too blunt, perhaps; but it was time someone said it.

“My second favor,” Donncha said, as if I had not spoken, “is that you do not talk to Lady Geiléis about our visit today. If she asks you, you might tell her we went to see some local folk and that you did not hear anything useful—the truth, as far as it goes. I would ask you not to mention that I have been visiting Ana, or that some members of our household have been providing supplies for her. If you could keep quiet about this, that would be in Ana’s best interests.”

“And yours.”

“Mine don’t matter, Mistress Blackthorn. But Fursa was my friend. My only friend in a very long time. I’m honor bound to see his wife and child right. I need to be sure they’ll be looked after as they deserve, and I’m not sure I will be able to see to that myself. I’ve done a pretty poor job thus far. You’ll have noticed that.”