Her shoulders twitched in surprise. He had a momentary impression of garbled emotion—fear, worry, determination—and then her voice spoke in his mind. *He’s with Motley. They’re waiting for us at the doorway in the woods. Can you shapeshift?*
*If I try, I’ll probably puncture a lung.*Transformation was hard enough without broken bones. He’d be lucky not to end up with his entire ribcage sticking out through his skin. *But it doesn’t matter. I can’t run in either form. You go. I’ll hold him off.*
Cathy didn’t take her eyes off Morcant, but he received the mental equivalent of an exasperated look. *Don’t be an idiot.*
The ice griffin had cocked its head so far that it was practically peering at Cathy upside-down. Morcant looked just as baffled as his steed. He ran a gauntleted hand through his silver-and-gold hair, brow furrowing as though he was trying to do complex mental algebra—or, given the intellect of the average high sidhe, just remember what he’d had for lunch.
“And this man?” he asked Cathy, gesturing at Aodhan. “What is he to you?”
Cathy shot him a sidelong glance. “He’s…”
“Hers,” Aodhan finished for her, without hesitation. He moved to Cathy’s side, keeping his wand trained on the high sidhe. “I’m hers. Whenever and however she needs me.”
The ice griffin twisted its head round, looking back at its rider. It chirruped like an inquisitive kitten—a bizarre sound, issuing from that immense hooked beak.
“I know,” Morcant said to his steed. To Aodhan’s utter astonishment, the prince drew himself upright, his sword vanishing. “I acknowledge you as the boy’s rightful parent, and cede him to your care. You may stand down.”
“Like hell we will,” Aodhan said, not lowering his wand. “Don’t drop your guard, Cathy. It’s a trap.”
Morcant raised his chin, all icy disdain once more. “A parent has the right to demand the return of her child. I am bound by the laws of the fae to respect that claim.”
That would be true… if Morcant actually had the boy, which he didn’t. Only fae who’d claimed a changeling were compelled to honor the ancient bargain and let parent and child return home unharmed. Just as any seelie could have killed Cathy on the way to her son, there was nothing stopping Morcant from snatching her up here and now.
Aodhan nearly opened his mouth to point this out, but caught himself just in time. Morcant had put his sword away. If the unseelie prince genuinely was idiotic enough to think that changeling law protected Cathy under these circumstances, Aodhan was not about to enlighten him.
Cathy lowered her sword the barest fraction, though her hands stayed tight on the hilt. “You’re letting us go? Just like that?”
“Honor binds me to offer you safe passage back to your realm.” Morcant extended a hand. “Call your child. I give you my word that I will return you both to Lady Maeve’s sidhean, and from there to your own world.”
“Do not get on that griffin,” Aodhan said flatly.
From Cathy’s testy look, she hadn’t needed the warning. She turned back to Morcant, her sword still held ready. “Thank you for the offer, Prince Morcant, but that will not be necessary. We’re staying.”
“What?” Aodhan’s heart gave a great leap, banging into his abused ribs. He barely felt the pain. “You mean—here?”
Cathy’s free hand slipped into his. She squeezed his fingers lightly, the metal of her gauntlet as warm as her skin. “Right here.”
“Permanently?” Morcant frowned, confusion furrowing his brow again. “But you were not tithed to the unseelie. You stepped through the portal of your own free will. Nothing ties you to this realm.”
“You’re wrong.” Cathy smiled, glancing at Aodhan. “He does.”