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Airgetlám. Where had I heard that name before? It was a soft bell ringing in the back of my head, not a warning bell but a twinkling of one nonetheless.

I stepped over the iron runes and took a seat at the table. If Goose saw there was no harm in this woman, then I would trust his judgment. I had no other choice, not that he had proved to be especially reliable in that specific arena. All the fight had drained out of me anyway, and if she was going to turn on me and hurl me over the side of the cliff, then there was nothing for it. At least I could have something warm in my belly when the cold tore me to shreds.

“Seems you’re the first to be able to get him to listen,” I said, easing down onto the stool opposite her, wincing.

“I’m probably the first that he sees as not being a threat to you, then.” She sipped her tea with a mischievous smile. “A failinis who has been named and taken by a Fae is loyal unto the death lest that Fae betray it or harm it in some manner. It will fight any foe set before it and protect them until it is returned to magic. There is no more loyal a creature ever spawned from the Well as a failinis.”

“I’m not a Fae, though.”

The cup radiated warmth into my blood-crusted hands and seeped into my bones. It felt good, and I let my eyes slip closed to savor the sensation before taking a hesitant sip. Earthy, leafy woodlands bloomed on my taste buds and curled into my chest.

“But you are, though,” she said, and I opened my eyes to see her turquoise gaze piercing me as she tilted her head. “Have you truly not accepted that, young one?”

I sat back, adjusting my seating so the leg sticking out of my shoulder stopped obscenely tapping on the table with every thud of my heart. “Lady Airgetlám, I hate to tell you this, but I’m just a human that a Darrig spent a lot of time and effort to look like a Fae. But under all the glint and polish is just a normal, mundane human.”

“Oh, sweet girl. Would that that were true. Your path in life would have been much easier.” Her hand reached out and touched the back of mine, gently rolling it over to reveal the caked, cracked blood covering my wounds. She took the tea towel and began gently brushing the blood away. “Since you have come to Magh Meall, have you not found that you hunger less, you drink less water, your wounds heal a little faster and do not ache so deep, that your emotions are deeper and more insistent? That your passions burn hotter and are near irresistible?”

She tilted her head, watching me as she revealed what were once deep gouges in my skin that bubbled with blood at the slightest movement were now small cuts that only bled as she pressed on it. “Have you not noticed that your tongue has changed and what was once your favorite foods has become less and less of interest? Perhaps you have even found yourself drawn to creatures and things of magic?”

Her gaze darted to the ghost lights that were resting on Goose’s smoky fur.

I cast a look toward them and then back to her. I didn’t want to answer any of these inconvenient questions, questions whose answers were sitting between us, staring at me in judgment for having not noticed the small changes in my internal norm. “Who are you?”

“I’ve already told you my name. My true name, even.” She turned over the other hand and began cleaning it.

“How do you know me?”

“There she is. Clever as I knew you would be.” She purred and looked up to me. “I am Lady Airgetlám, wife of Lord Túathal. Patron goddess of Árus Contráth, mistress of luck and wealth and a few other things. And I have known you since you were but a spark in the Well of Magic. I have known you since you drew your first breath . . . here in Magh Meall.”

Blood began to pump in my ears. It shouldn’t have. It should have stayed perfectly silent and merely snickered at the ludicrousness of what she had said. And yet . . .

“What.”

“What did she name you?”

“Who?”

“Cleena, my sister. What did she name you?”

“My name is Cricket.”

“No, dear heart, that is not your name. That is the name you chose for yourself when you came to Magh Meall. What did Cleena name you?”

“I’m not giving you my true name.”

“You wouldn’t need to give me your true name, young girl. I’ve known your true name since it was given to you . . . by me. Cleena would not have taken it with you to Human. I feel it here still, unused, unuttered for all these years, flying free on the wings of magic waiting for you to reclaim it where I left it. The name you grew from a weanling to a woman on has no more power over you.”

I narrowed my eyes on her. Was this a trick? “How did you know Cricket was what I picked for myself, and it wasn’t given to me?”

She tapped on her chin and looked up into the air. Her eyes twitched back and forth like she was searching for something in the nothingness above her before her hand shot out lightning fast, caught an unseen thing, and drew it down. Her fist unfolded, and a gold coin shimmered in her palm. Her thumb rubbed it, and as the coin glinted in the soft light the distorted image of my apartment, where my landlord was moving things around before picking up Cricket’s empty tank, wavered in its mirror surface.

“I have watched when I could. Sometimes, the right coin can be found, and sometimes, it cannot. It depends entirely on the ebb and flow of magic around this place. Your snake is fine, by the by. She crawled out of her tank only a few hours after you left her. She is nesting in the wall next to the furnace. She will live a long life and have at least one clutch that will carry your name on their forked tongues.”

“Sóna Mac Raith,” I whispered to the coin.

The ethereal beauty of the woman snickered into the teacup she had picked up. “Of course. Oh, dear sweet sister mine, may your light and magic flow through the realms always . . . and hopefully pick up a little creativity along the way before you rejoin us.”

I tilted my head, watching her speak to thin air. Unease slithered up and down my spine. Fae were all liars. This one was an exceptionally beautiful liar, though, and I didn’t like it. Between the discomfort and the throbbing in my shoulder, I could do nothing but watch her and await her next move as we enjoyed our twisted little tea party.