“I’m a healer, not a councilor.”

I saw Geiléis school her features. Thinking, no doubt, that I sounded hostile and wondering why.

“All I ask is that you listen awhile,” she said. “I seek nothing further from you.”

“Very well. You’ll excuse me if I get on with my work while you talk.” I busied myself, wondering what was coming.

“You are a wise woman, Mistress Blackthorn. A wise woman is generally well versed in ancient lore, or so I understand. And . . . I believe it is usual for your kind to be more open than most to the strange and uncanny. More precisely, to the fey. Some folk do not believe they exist outside the old tales. But you were quick to suggest the creature in the Tower of Thorns is not of this world. Tell me, in the course of your years as a healer, have you yourself encountered beings of that kind?”

She could hardly have chosen a question better calculated to annoy me. My past was not for discussion. Not with anyone. “I do know a great many tales, and the fey are in most of them.”

“But beyond the tales, in the world where you and I walk? Have you met beings that are neither the wild creatures of forest and hills, nor human men and women, but Other?”

“That question strikes me as somewhat intrusive, Lady Geiléis.”

“Then let me put it a different way. Are you open to the idea that such beings may exist? That they still walk the secluded places of Erin alongside our own kind?”

“It’s possible.”

“Some have suggested the creature in my tower is simply an animal that has wandered into the place and found itself trapped; or a flock of unusual birds out in the woods; or, indeed, a figment of my imagination. My requests for aid have been greeted with ridicule.”

“Mm-hm.” It was all too easy to imagine how that had felt: to tell her tale, perhaps to the northern ruler she’d mentioned, only to be scorned and laughed at. It brought back Mathuin and the way he had scoffed at my attempt to challenge him; how he had mocked me when I spoke the truth. I willed myself not to feel sympathy for Geiléis. My decision was already made. Whoever went to help her, it wouldn’t be me. Couldn’t be. I returned my attention to knife and chopping board, attacking the bunch of comfrey leaves with more violence than was strictly necessary.

“You know of the Tower of Thorns,” Geiléis said. “And yet I’m told you are not from these parts.”

Told? By whom? She’d been snooping around, asking questions about me. Why, when I’d already made it clear I would not go? “I find your dilemma interesting, my lady, but it’s for someone else to deal with. I don’t understand why you’ve come to see me. I’ve heard the story already. I’ve given you what wisdom I have to offer.”

Grim loomed suddenly in the doorway. He gave Geiléis a look, then turned his attention to me. “Fetch you something to eat?”