“Wait!” Tamsin blurted out.
Aodhan raised his eyes to the ceiling. “Herne’s hooves. Haven’t you had enough tearful goodbyes?”
“I nearly forgot.” Tamsin snatched up Angus and held him out toward Cuan. “Here. Take him with you.”
Cuan blinked at the animal, who looked equally dubious. “Ah. Not to doubt the valor of your faithful hound, but I do not think I require an escort.”
“It’s not that.” Tamsin thrust the dog into his arms. “If…if it turns out I can’t go home, at least he can.”
Her voice was firm, but her chin trembled, just a little. Angus whimpered, struggling to get back to his mistress. Cuan’s heart broke anew.
“Are you certain?” he asked, very quietly.
“Yes. Take him to Betty. She’ll look after him.” Tamsin swiped a hand across her eyes, and bent to press her face into Angus’s soft fur. “You’ll be okay, baby. Everything’s going to be okay. I love you.”
She pulled back, looking up into his eyes. Her own were very bright.
“I love you,” she said, and this time it wasn’t to the hound. “Come back to me.”
“Time, time,” Motley said urgently. He still gripped the door handle, holding it half-turned. “There’s a gap. Eyes blinking. Go, go now.”
There was no time for all Cuan wanted to say to Tamsin. A thousand years would not have been enough. He could only press his lips to hers, one final time.
And then he was running, throwing himself forward, as Motley opened the door.