Maeve untied the piece of loose fabric covering her thigh and reexamined her wound. As adept as Brendan was at manipulating the elements around him, his healing touch left much to be desired. She couldn’t complain; he conjured up enough magic to staunch the bleeding. Her only worry now was infection, be it from the wolf or the open wounds.

  She reapplied the bandage with a tight knot and reclined on the old stump behind her. The dark damp of the old forest made the morning sun feel that much warmer on her face and hands. She had to limp halfway across the field for a place to lean on as there were no such places in the enemy camp.

  Fergal sat next to the smoldering fire and supervised the two restrained prisoners while the twins were away. Maeve wondered if either of the two conscious people at the fire knew she could still hear them from her seat of leisure.

  The sorceress opened with threats. “Do you know who we really are?” she asked Fergal. “Do you know what we’re capable of? Do you know how many people are going to come for us?”

  The longest answer Fergal gave to any of these questions was a two-second chuckle.

  Next came the bargaining and bribery. “We’ve watched you for months, big fella,” she had told him. “We know there’s not much money to be made in this area. Look at our clothes. Look at the state of our camp. We can give you a year’s worth of coin for our freedom.”

  Maeve tensed up when she heard the offer. She had unstrung her bow in order to restrain the other stranger before he regained consciousness. Fergal had done right by them the entire time but everyone—everyone—had their price.

  Maeve hung her head and faked a nap. If Fergal turned on her, there would be little she could do. She opted to hear what he had to say when he thought no one else was paying attention.

  He hesitated for an extra second before answering. “Your kind of money is no longer good in Rathmullan, I’ll see to that,” Fergal said.

  Sound as a pound, Maeve thought. I knew it.

  The captive might have known it, too. She immediately pivoted. “Surely there must be something I can offer a big, sturdy lad like yourself?”

  Maeve chortled in spite of herself. She opened her eyes and was greeted by a glare from the sorceress and an uneasy expression on Fergal’s face. Maeve’s slip-up moved the discussion into the next phase: insults. Maeve believed she had heard every manner of belittlement possible in her travels across the northern half of Ireland. She learned a few more this morning.

  The lady finally ran out of curses ten minutes ago. Maeve and Fergal traded the occasional smirk, silently sharing in their amusement over the stranger’s display. In the past few minutes, however, the smirks turned to squirms as the wait for their comrades dragged on.

  “Oi, Maeve,” Fergal said. “That’s them, now.”

  Maeve straightened her back and scanned the far side of the meadow past the Lough. The siblings emerged from the southwest corner and bounded around the water’s edge. Maeve pushed herself up and staggered to the fire. She reached Fergal only a few seconds before the twins did.

  “What’s the story?” she asked.

  Brendan canted his head toward the sorceress. “Are you sure you want us tellin’ you while we’re next to them?” he asked.

  “There’s nothing she can do about it,” Maeve said.

  The lady scoffed. “You really have no idea what you’re up—”

  “—Ignore her,” Maeve said. “What of the brothers?”

  “They were still unconscious when we returned,” Brigid said. “That’s why we were gone so long. We had to rouse them.”

  The sorceress pinched her face and scowled at the twins.

  “What was their account of the day in question?” Maeve asked.

  “They said they were in Gortahork, watching for people like us coming from the south and east,” Brigid said. “They said these two at our feet didn’t want to be interrupted.”

  “And you believed them?” Maeve asked.

  Brendan nodded. “They seemed truthful. As they were with the information that led us here. You saw them yourself last night; did they strike you as the conniving, scheming type?”

  “Evading justice for what happened to our people in Magheroarty would be enough to set most people scheming,” Maeve said. “Or did they tell you they had no knowledge of what happened?”

  “Not until after it was done,” Brigid said.

  “Then who helped these two move the bodies back to their camp?” Maeve asked.

  “The brothers didn’t know their names,” Brigid said. “They had seen them a few times before, working for someone else who was in league with our friends here. Those were the people who kept the brothers away, out of mistrust.”

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  The sorceress burst into cold, hollow laughter. “And they were right not to trust those eejits, weren’t they?” the stranger asked. “I wish I could have seen the look on their faces when you killed them.”

  “Oh, we didn’t kill them,” Brendan said.

  “You’re coddin’ me,” the sorceress said.

  “They pointed us in your direction as we asked,” he said. “They answered all our questions. We told them that any reunions between them and our people would end poorly for them and sent them off.”

  The captive shook her head. “How you lot got the best of us absolutely confounds me,” she said.

  “Superior numbers and skill, of course,” Brendan said.

  The sorceress looked Brendan over from head to toe and curled left corner of her mouth by fractions of an inch. “You?” she asked. “I hate to admit it, but you’re not without promise. A fine thing, too. It’s a shame you’re on the losing side of this.”

  Brendan’s mouth hung open for few seconds before closing. The cheeks above it reddened.

  “Sorry, big fella,” the stranger said to Fergal. “Can’t blame me for trying to get free, hai?” She jerked her head toward Maeve. “I also thought yer wan here was earwigging us—and I was right.”

  Maeve stepped forward and loomed over the woman. “From where I’m standing, you’re the one on the losing side,” Maeve said.

  “You’ve only set us back a bit,” the sorceress said. “Once we’re freed—”

  “—What gave you the impression that we’d free you?” Maeve asked.

  The gleam in the stranger’s eye faded. Her facial expression flattened and her eyes darted to the ground. “So you do mean to kill us,” she said with a nod.

  “That’s not our intent,” Maeve said. “Certainly not if you tell us more about what you Fomori have planned.”

  Fergal leaned toward Brigid. She sensed his question and reached across her body to pat his arm. She gave him a soft halting gesture and raised her eyes in a silent plea. He closed his eyes and nodded, after which they both returned to the conversation.

  “Those beasts were ravenous yet you four emerged unscathed,” Maeve said. “Is that part of the magic you used to disfigure these wolves?”

  Brendan wrinkled his face and tilted his head. His reaction didn’t pass unnoticed.

  “It would appear you already know that answer,” the sorceress said. “Why are you asking me and hurting this lad’s feelings?”

  She met Brendan’s eyes and grinned wide enough to expose her incisors. “I really did underestimate you,” she said. “This could be fun.”

  Maeve patted a pouch on her belt that held her whittling knife, some broadheads and fletching.

  “I could shove my extra horse bit in your gob and wait for your master to wake,” Maeve said. “That’s closer to my definition of fun.”

  The stranger cinched her lips into a circle. “Hai, so he’s yours,” she said. “Don’t be jealous, lass. You should know before you fasten that thing to me that this one isn’t my master.”

  Maeve scoffed. “I don’t know which bit of that nonsense is funnier,” Maeve said. “Sorry, Brendan.”

  “Can we just move onto the part where she’s meant to be in charge of this operation?” Brendan asked.

  Maeve glanced at Brendan from the side of her eye. His eyes shifted between several points in the distance and his cheeks were apple red. For all his bravado, he was wilting under this manner of light.

  “So you’re in charge?” Maeve asked. “Do you have a name?”

  “I do.”

  “What is it?”

  The lady grinned but refused to answer.

  “Who is this one, then?” Maeve asked.

  “A friend of my da’s,” she said. “He promised to watch over me after my father passed. He’s good to me, but he’s a bit odd.”

  “That explains the poetry,” Fergal said.

  “The what?” Maeve asked.

  Fergal turned to Brigid. “Hai, he spoke in verse when he approached us last night,” he said. “I assumed you caught on to that.”

  “I… did not,” Brigid said.

  Maeve groaned and flung her hands to each side. “OI!” she said. “You three need to give my head some peace, or step away.”

  Their captive cackled. “You culchies are absolutely flailing,” she said.

  “Tell me the point of it all,” Maeve said.

  “Kill me,” the sorceress said. “You won’t get what you want.”

  “Neither will you,” Maeve said. “My friends here will carry you away to one of their distant relations out east and there you will languish until you tell us everything you know. And the worst part for you? We thwarted all your corruption and controlling magic.”

  “You’re a gas yourself,” the sorceress said. “I will find my way free soon enough. And if you think I was the only one of my people mastering the art of… let’s call it ‘persuasion,’ your people won’t last very long.”

  “You know, perhaps I was wrong,” Maeve said. “Perhaps I will get a bit too ossified a year or two from now. Perhaps I might let it slip to one of my friends near the Crossroads or Dunfanaghy that I know exactly where they’ve stashed you. You know yourself by now that we sílrad can be the bickering kind. In the end, however, the O’Cahans and O’Neills will understand their neighbors’ need for vengeance. Perhaps after a year or two, they’d be glad to be rid of you.”

  The sorceress lowered her face.

  “Six people dead,” Maeve said. “Husbands and wives. Mams and Das. Friends. And here you are declaring with glee that it was your call.”

  “Not my call,” the stranger muttered.

  “Sorry?” Maeve said.

  “It wasn’t my call,” the sorceress said. “I get my orders, same as you, maybe?”

  “I’ve never gotten that ‘order,’” Maeve said. “Nor would I follow it if I did.”

  “You know what I mean. And the difference between us is that the people I get my orders from would tell others to do the same to me if I didn’t carry them out.”

  “So now you’re telling me you’re sorry for your actions?” Maeve said with a snort. “I don’t believe you.”

  “Am I sorry?” the sorceress asked. “No. Do I regret that it had to be done? Maybe, if I think about it for too long. But I can’t be sorry for doing what I had to.”

  “Why those people?” Maeve asked. “Why now?”

  “Don’t play the fool with me!” the stranger said. “Your people were watching us. Nobody forced them to hide on that hill tracking the others as they came and went from Tory Island. They had to know that kind of action came with risk.”

  Maeve looked at Brigid and received a nod in reply. “Fine. Get you on your feet while we wake your friend. We’re going back to Rathmullan. It’s time you visited the inn.”