We stepped into the coach’s interior, to the welcome scent of wood polish and jasmine.
Aengus brushed past us to close the door, when a voice said, “Wait for me.”
“What’s he doing here?” Aengus growled.
I turned to find Cliach closing the door. His thin frame made him look like a wood sprite compared to Aengus, who stood six-and-a-half-feet tall with a body as well developed as Drayce’s, yet the smaller male raised his chin and stared straight into Aengus’ eyes.
“Majesty has deemed my services vital in rousing her mate,” Cliach said in a tone of unbridled self-importance. “Step aside, so I may take my place among her Royal Court.”
Rosalind joined Aengus in a snarl. I held back a growl. Until we found that magical instrument, Cliach would have to remain alive. Aengus pushed the door to the left, letting Rosalind into the other room and letting out the rich aroma of beef stew. I peered into a room about the size of the royal suite, its illuminated by wall lamps and a large window that provided a back view of the capall and beyond them, the lake. Bunks ran along the length of one wall and a dining table along the middle.
On the far left, a five-foot-tall Nessa stood behind a counter, pushing a pot over a stove. She gave me a curt bob of the head and continued cooking.
I placed my hands on my hips and turned my attention back to Cliach, who stood in the narrow hallway, clutching himself around the middle. “Now, will you direct us to the Harp of Dagda?”
“Dagda?” Aengus paused at the doorway and frowned.
“You know him?” I asked him.
“Dagda is my father,” he replied.
After checking on Drayce to make sure he hadn’t moved from where I had left him, I joined the others in the main room. A large bowl of beef stew and a plate of heaping potatoes roasted in herbs and onions and garlic awaited in the middle of the table, and Nessa emerged from behind her counter with a tray of food, which she set on the table for me.
I lowered myself into the seat and met Aengus’ curious, turquoise eyes. “What do you know about the Harp of Dagda?”
Aengus took the seat on my left, his thick brows furrowing. “It’s just an old relic handed down from the goddess, Dana. Nobody has ever been able to play it.”
“I can.” Cliach strode across the room. He was about to sit opposite me, when Rosalind gripped the back of the seat, forcing him to take the chair across the table from Aengus. The musician pursed his lips and continued. “I’ve been blessed to play any instrument in existence.”
“But not a female’s heart,” Rosalind snapped.
Aengus grinned at Rosalind and tried to catch her eye, but she turned her gaze away. His shoulders slumped, and he stared into the table.
I exhaled a long breath. Those two would have to sort out their differences. Right now, I needed to find this harp and get Cliach to play it for Drayce. Only then could we eliminate the threat of the Fear Dorcha and pursue Queen Melusina.
Nessa returned to the table with two bowls of stew. She placed one in front of Aengus, the other in front of Cliach, and paused behind him to glare at me with her hands on her hips.
I placed a heaping spoonful of beef stew in my mouth and made a show of chewing it. It was an explosion of red wine, fresh meat and herbs—far better than anything I could have made myself. After I’d eaten a few more bites, Nessa nodded her approval and walked back to her counter.
“Let’s assume that Cliach can play the harp,” I said to Aengus. “Where can we find it?”
He replied, “Dagda keeps his artifacts in the Palace of Bóinne, but that’s on the edge of the Summer Court.”
Anxiety rippled through my belly, and the beef stew suddenly didn’t feel so appetizing. The Summer Court was exactly the place I needed to avoid, as I wasn’t nearly ready to face the Fear Dorcha.
“Can we get there and avoid the Summer Court?” I asked.
Aengus ran his fingers through his golden curls and tilted his head to the ceiling. The muscles in his jaw tightened as though he was chewing through the problem. “There’s a servants’ entrance via the Free Folk territory, but most of the palace and its grounds encroaches on the Summer Court.”
I dropped my spoon into the bowl. I doubted that anyone who lived in a palace would lower themselves into meeting the Queen of the Faeries in such a humble manner, but our options were limited.
Everyone stopped eating to stare. I glanced from Aengus on my left, Cliach, who sat opposite, then to Rosalind, and to Nessa, who was serving Rosalind a bowl of stew. They looked at me as though I had a plan.
“Your Majesty?” asked Rosalind.
I turned to Nessa. “Can you see any dangers ahead with your abilities?”
Up close, the grugach’s milky eye was made entirely of smoke, which swirled within the confines of the socket. Her wrinkled face twisted with contemplation, and one of the large mouse ears on the side of her face twitched.
“The Fear Dorcha needs you in the Summer Court,” she replied. “It is the center of his power and the most dangerous place in the realm for you.”
I gulped. “Will he know if I cross its territory?”
“Of course, but whether he’ll reach you before you leave is a different matter.”
Aengus rubbed his chin. “Dagda’s wards are impenetrable. His power comes directly from Dana herself.”
I nodded.
Like a druid. Like Father. The stew in my belly weighed as heavy as stones, and I rose from my seat. “Wake me before we reach Summer Court territory. I’m going to see if I can awaken my mate.”
Thanks to Rosalind’s magic, I slipped into the dream with ease. Drayce stood in front of the window with his back to the room. The lichen bed curtains were gone, revealing