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“You have experienced this firsthand?” I frowned.

“No, but the stories are so prevalent that the likelihood is they are true.”

I lifted my attention to the chattering child. “Mela is human, isn’t she?”

“Completely,” Rue confirmed.

“And you are fae.”

“As far as I know.” She frowned. “I suspect not completely. I know nothing of my father’s heritage, and my magic doesn’t appear to follow what I know of fae magic.” She sighed. “Which is next to nothing.”

“Maybe I could help a bit with that, too, or my mother could.”

She caught my forearm. “No more bindings. That last one stung.”

I gazed down at her hand with a frown. My forearm prickled beneath her hand, warm and steady, but the sensation carried something else as well. I didn’t have a name for it, but I intuitively knew it needed investigation.

Rue

Dawn lightened the horizon to a rosy glow by the time we approached Kent’s home. Bundled into Kent’s cloak and carried securely in his arms, Mela had succumbed to the sweetness of slumber. Kent and I were not so blessed.

I adjusted my hold on the small bundle encompassing Mela’s and my worldly possessions. We approached the third village west of our previous home like common travelers. Peering ahead through the dim light, I could just make out the roofs, chimneys, and first wisps of smoke denoting waking households crowding the edges of the trail ahead.

“This is our turnoff,” Kent announced. “The cottage is back a distance from the trail.” He led the way, striding confidently off into untrampled grasses, over a hillock, and between great hawthorn bushes taller than any man.

I tried to keep to the route he took through the grass but quickly gave up on watching my feet and tried to peer through the early morning gloom instead.

We passed an oak, twisted by years of battering wind, guarding a stone wall, but still no cottage came into sight. Bushes, ash trees, and another oak guarded a rapidly widening trail that was becoming a path beneath our feet.

No longer hampered by the long grasses pulling against my skirt, I put on speed to better match Kent’s long-legged pace. I reached his side just as he rounded a truly massive hedge and we caught a first glimpse of the cottage. The small building huddled against the hillside, half in and half out of the dirt rise. The thatched roof appeared well cared for and whole, and a thin plume of smoke marked the presence of an occupant within.

“It is too early for Mother to be awake,” Kent commented with a disapproving frown. “I told her not to stay up, but rising too early is just as bad. She needs her sleep.” Putting on speed, he lengthened his stride. I had to scramble to catch up.

Kent had almost reached the door when a horse’s whiny brought him to a standstill. I had to sidestep to avoid running into him from behind. Once I was steady again, I found him glaring thoughtfully at the horse, a black beast the color of night and shadow, regarded us from within a paddock across from the cottage.

“I didn’t know you owned a horse,” I commented.

“I don’t. Neither do I recognize it. We have a visitor.” He glared at the door. “Do you mind opening the latch for me?”

I jumped to comply. The door swung inward on well-oiled hinges, and the moment I unlatched it Kent was ducking through and into the house before I could speak.

“I am home, Mother,” he announced as calmly as though he arrived home with company every day. I didn’t know. Perhaps he did.

The warmth of the space greeted us, and I was careful to pull the door closed behind us, keeping the heat within the walls. However, when I turned around, I realized I had also closed us into a small space with another large male. Like Kent, he radiated power, but his had a completely different feel than Kent’s.

Rising to his feet, the man turned to face us with a somber expression that turned puzzled and then angry. “That child is human.”

Standing almost of equal height with Kent, he appeared broader across the chest, but it might’ve been the illusion created by his attire. Dressed from head to toe in black, including gloves and boots, the male appeared to be in mourning, but considering the mix of emotions I could feel coming from him, I doubted it.

“Why is there a Dullahan in my house?” Kent asked. “Where is my mother?”

“Did you steal the child?” The room dimmed, and the shadows began to writhe in the corners as the stranger gathered power.

“If you harmed my mother—”

The door opened behind me and a tall, willowy woman with heavy coils of dark-green hair entered, something wrapped in her apron. She closed the door behind her and regarded the four of us with surprising calm.

Kent’s relief was palpable. “Did you invite the Dullahan in?”