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I grabbed my jacket and pushed to my feet, doing my best to ignore the various aches that instantly sprang to life, then caught Margaret’s good hand and helped her upright.

“This way,” she said, and kept a fierce hold of my fingers as she limped toward the spike-topped wall dividing this courtyard from the next.

She didn’t stop in front of it. She simply walked straight into it. It was an illusion. A solid, very real-looking illusion.

Its magic briefly pressed against me, but the knives remained inert, and, after a beat, we stepped into a narrow cobblestoned lane that ran along the rear of the remaining buildings. I glanced behind me. The wall looked as solid and as real on this side as it had the other. I cautiously reached out and touched it. It even felt like concrete.

“The magic is programmed to respond only to me or Gannon,” she said, releasing me and moving on. “That’s why I had to hold your hand as we went through. You wouldn’t have gotten over it—those spikes are programed to be deadly, let me assure you of that.”

I glanced up. The metal tips glinted ominously in the sullen glow of the green fire. I returned my gaze to hers. “We need to get you to a fae hosp?—”

“No need. My wife can fix me up just fine. She’s a healer, you see.”

“She’s an elf?”

I couldn’t help the surprise in my voice, and her smile held a touch of bitterness. “Half elf, and unwelcome in their circles, even if she has the healing gift.”

“Sorry,” I said, even though there was a long history of that sort of discrimination. Elves might be randy bastards, but for the most part, they didn’t welcome half-breeds into their communities or their lives. Or, at least, the highborn didn’t. The foresters and servant class were bit more open to the prospect. Certainly, Darby’s family wouldn’t have any objections to her marrying Lugh, especially now that her older brother had provided an heir to carry on the family name.

Of course, they’d also had years upon years of her being very clear about her intentions when it came to my brother. I just hoped that now their relationship had eventuated it would work out for them both.

“No need for you to be sorry,” Margaret was saying. “It is what it is.”

I dumped the jacket in one of the half-filled bins we passed, then asked, “Why isn’t she fixing that cough of yours?”

“Because,” she said, her testy tone suggesting it was a bone of contention between them, “I refuse to give up smoking like she wants, so she leaves me suffering the consequences.”

“I’m gathering said consequences would not be allowed to precede too far.”

She sniffed. “That is something neither of us have discussed. But elves, even if half-breeds, can be bloody-minded sometimes.”

They certainly could be. Even Darby, who was one of the loveliest people I knew and who I adored like a sister, could be rather single-minded when she decided on a particular course of action. Even Lugh had eventually succumbed to the force of her determination—though I didn’t for a second think he had any regrets about finally accepting the inevitable.

Once we’d reached the end of the lane, Margaret pulled a set of keys from her pocket and handed them to me.

“My car is the old Toyota across the road. We only live ten minutes away, and we can talk more there.”

I did my best to ignore the inner voice suggesting I might possibly be stepping into a trap. I’d sensed no lie in what she’d said about Mom, or anything else for that matter. That in itself wasn’t a guarantee of safety, of course, but it was very doubtful she—or Gannon, or anyone they might be working with—would go to this extent to entrap me. Especially when they couldn’t have known we’d follow Loudon to that shop.

I opened the passenger door, helped her in, and then ran around to the driver’s side. My phone pinged as I was about to climb in, and I hesitated, grabbing it from my purse to check the screen.

Eljin had Loudon “in hand” and was taking him somewhere safe. I sent back a quick “be careful,” then tucked the phone away and climbed in.

“Where to?” I said, starting the engine.

She gave me the address, and my heart rate did another of those zooms. It was the same address that Loudon’s maid had messaged me through the song.

It seemed Fate was having a grand old time weaving her threads into my life today.

I waited for a car to pass then pulled out. “Does your wife work for Loudon?”

“Yes.” Margaret glanced at me, amusement briefly breaking the pain haunting her expression. “He and Gannon might be partners, but Gannon doesn’t trust him, and he pays Jaikyl well to be his spy. Why?”

“I saw her today. She said she wanted to speak to me.”

“Jaikyl doesn’t speak. She’s mute.”

“She signed a message through the song of the wood.” I briefly glanced at her. “I don’t suppose you know what it might be about?”