“Yes.”
“About the child you are expecting?”
She smiled in spite of herself. She should have known. The River Master had spies everywhere, and there had been no attempt to keep the news of her baby a secret. “Yes,” she answered.
“Your child by Holiday, an heir to the throne.” Her father’s stone face was expressionless, but his voice gave something of what he was feeling away. “You must be pleased, Willow.”
“And you are not,” she declared softly.
“The child is not once-fairy and therefore not one of us. The child is half-human. I would wish it otherwise.”
She shook her head. “You see everything in terms of your own interests, Father. The child is Ben Holiday’s and therefore another obstacle in your efforts to gain control of the throne of Landover. You can’t just outwait him now. You must deal with his child as well. Isn’t that what you mean?”
The River Master came forward to stand directly before her. “I will not argue with you. I am disappointed that you did not intend to tell me of the birth of my grandchild. You would tell your mother, but you would let me find out another way.”
“It wasn’t so difficult for you, was it?” she asked. “Not with all your spies to tell you.”
There was a hard silence as they faced each other, sylph and sprite, daughter and father, separated by distances that could never be measured.
The River Master looked away. The sun glinted off his silver skin as he stared out into the shadows of the great forest trees. “This is my homeland. These are my people. It is important for me to remember them first in all things. You have forgotten what that means. We do not see things the same way, Willow. We never have. I was never close enough to you to find a way to do so. Some of that is my fault. You were ruined for me by your mother’s refusal to live with me. I could not look at you without seeing her.”
He shrugged, a slow, deliberate movement, a relegation to the past of what was now beyond his grasp. “Yet I loved you, child. I love you still.” He looked back at her. “You do not believe that, do you? You do not accept it.”
She felt something stir weakly inside, a memory of when she had wanted nothing more. “If you love me,” she said carefully, “then give me your word that you will protect my child always.”
He looked long and hard at her, as if seeing someone else. Then he placed one hand on his breast. She was surprised to see how gnarled it had become. The River Master was aging. “Given,” he said. “To the extent that I can do so, my grandchild shall be kept safe.” He paused. “But it was not necessary to ask for my word on that.”
Willow held his gaze. “I think perhaps it was.”
The River Master’s hand dropped away. “You are too harsh toward me. But I understand.” He glanced skyward. “Do you go now to your mother or will you come with me into the city, to my home? Your mother,” he hurried on, “will not come until night.”
Willow hesitated, and for a moment thought she might accept his invitation, for she sensed it was extended in kindness and not duplicitously. Then she shook her head. “No, I will go on,” she said. “I have … a need to be alone before I see her.”
Her father nodded, as if he had expected her answer. “Do you think she … ?” he began, and then stopped, unable to continue. Willow waited. He looked away and then back again. “Do you think she would dance for me as well?”
Willow experienced a sudden sadness for her father. It had been difficult for him to ask that. “No, I do not think so. She will not even appear if you come with me.”
He nodded again, expecting this answer as well. She reached out then and took hold of his hand. “But I will ask her if she will dance for you another time.”
His hand tightened around hers. They stood joined that way for a moment longer, and then the River Master spoke again. “I will tell you something, Willow. Whether you believe me or not is your choice. But my dreams are certain and my vision is true, and of all the once-fairy I am the most powerful and the closest to the old ways. So heed me. Even before I was informed of the birth, I knew of the child. I have dreamed of it before. The dreams show me this. The path of your life is marked by the coming of this child. You must find ways to be strong in the face of the changes it will bring—you and the High Lord both.”