“Yes.” Despising himself, he rose from the bed and buttoned his pantaloons. “And when I do, Eden, he must come with me to Tir-na-nog.”
She did not react by so much of a twitch of her lips. “I am his mother.”
“And you cannot protect him, even from your own kin. You cannot teach Donal to spend his life rejecting his true nature. He does not belong among men.” He hardened his voice. “Accept the truth, Eden. Donal is more Fane than mortal.”
“I will not. Unlike you, he can love.”
He let the blow slide past him. “Then do not let this world destroy that gift. When he was in Eire, the mortals who kept him treated him with great cruelty. They beat him, Eden, and mocked him, and drove him away out of fear. Is that the life you wish for him?”
Her face grew white as bone. “He was…” She pressed her hands to her mouth. “Why did you not tell me?”
“And make you suffer as well?”
She looked so ill that he prepared to catch her if she fell. Tears streamed over her cheeks.
“He is five years old,” she whispered.
“And in Tir-na-nog he will grow and live for many years. He will never want, I promise you. And I will not leave him.” He swallowed. “You will not be alone. We have created a new child, Eden. One that will belong in your world. I have… made sure of that.”
She touched her abdomen and stared at him, hollow-eyed. He knew he had killed any love she still had for him. Such was the mercy of the Fane. Yet it was her love that had finally unlocked his seed and made him fertile again.
She would not be alone.
“Eden,” he said, the words cutting him like broken glass. “It is for the best—”
Whatever reply she might have made was lost in a whirring hum and a blast of air. A small figure tumbled into the center of the room and hung suspended several feet above the ground, darting this way and that.
“My lord! My lord, alive!” Tod flew in circles about Hartley’s head and nearly crashed into Eden, who gazed at him in astonishment.
Hartley reached up and caught the little Fane by his ragged collar. “What are you doing here?” he demanded. “What possessed you leave the forest? You cannot venture from Hartsmere. You should be—”
“Not dead, my lord!” Tod squirmed in his grip like an otter. “Tod has a talisman against mortal magic!” He reached inside his russet shirt and pulled forth a silver charm on a chain. “This protects Tod, let him find you.”
Hartley glanced at Eden. “You had better dress. We may have to leave very quickly.”
With amazing self possession, she retrieved her gown and pulled it on. “One of your fellow Faeries, I presume?”
“Tod, the hob,” he said, more proud of her than he had any right to be. He released Tod. “Where did you get such a charm? You cannot return to Tir-na-nog without me—”
“The Irishwoman gave it. She sent Tod!”
Mrs. Byrne had given the hob a talisman powerful enough to protect him in the mortal world? But Mrs. Byrne had shown no such talents. She was human. Hartley had not even taken his leave of her when he departed Hartsmere, let alone told her of Tod, or what he himself was.
But she knew. Somehow, she knew enough to command Tod and send him after Hartley. Mrs. Byrne would have many questions to answer when they returned to Hartsmere. If he ever had the chance to ask them.
“Tod has a message,” the hob said, abruptly serious. “The Irishwoman sent Tod to tell my lord that the Angry One did not go away from Hartsmere. She returned, with my lord’s son.” He grimaced, baring his teeth. “The Angry One thinks my lord is dead. My lord must come at once.”
Hartley froze. “Claudia went back to Hartsmere?”
He and Eden spoke at almost the same instant. They stared at each other with grim determination.
“She is not going to send for me,” Eden said. “First she separated me from Donal, and then she tried to kill you.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “Oh, God. She could not harm him.”