“Oh, right.” Cathy took hold of the pan, trying to tug it off the alicorn’s horn. “Wow, this is really jammed. Maybe if we both pull in opposite directions…?”
With considerable effort—and rather more swearing than Cathy had expected from a magical fairy creature—they finally managed to separate the alicorn from the frying pan. Cathy had been pulling so hard that when the iron finally slid free, she fell over backward.
“Much better,” she heard the alicorn say—and this time, she really heard him, with her ears rather than her mind. “That was giving me one hell of a headache.”
Cathy looked up, yelped in shock, and came perilously close to beaning the alicorn in the head with the frying pan again.
He wasn’t an alicorn anymore. A tall, muscular man stood where the creature had been, flexing his hands as though shaking out pins-and needles. He wore long brown robes, belted at the waist and reaching down to the tops of his boots. His short hair was precisely the same metallic shade of gold as the alicorn’s mane and feathers.
Her voice shot up an octave. “You’re a shapeshifter?”
“No, I’m a librarian,” he replied without looking at her, still focused on cracking his knuckles. Then, as if as an afterthought, he added, “Also a mage.”
Winged unicorn… gold hair… librarian…
The penny finally dropped.
“You’re Aodhan!” Cathy exclaimed.
The man’s head jerked up. “You know my name?”
“Of course. You’re Cuan’s friend. He’s told us all about you.” Cathy scrambled to her feet, giddy with relief. “Did he contact you by magic? How did you find me so fast?”
“Magic,” Aodhan said, in an odd, flat tone.
She wasn’t sure if he was answering her question or just repeating the word. It didn’t really matter, anyway. There were far more pressing concerns.
“Can you call him back? Right now?” She didn’t give him a chance to reply, her mind already leaping ahead to all the things that needed to be done. “Tell him that Maeve says Kevin’s somewhere in the seelie lands, but she doesn’t know where. It sounds like they planning to train him as a warrior, if that narrows things down? Oh! Tell him to talk to Betty and Hope. I know the Wild Hunt isn’t allowed to come to the fae realm, but Betty said that she has a secret ally in the seelie court. If she can contact him or her—”
“For the love of all the goddesses!” Aodhan held up his hands, halting her torrent of words. “Slow down, human. Start at the beginning. Who in the nine realms is Kevin?”
“He’s my son. My little boy, the one who was stolen by Maeve and replaced with a fairy creature.” Cathy took in Aodhan’s blank face. “Didn’t Cuan tell you all this?”
Was it her imagination, or did Aodhan hesitate for an instant? “I haven’t had the opportunity for a long conversation with him today. So, your son was taken by the seelie. That explains why you’re staging a one-woman invasion of their lands. Though not why you’ve chosen to arm yourself with a cooking utensil.”
Cathy looked down at the punctured frying pan. It hadn’t been an impressive weapon even before it had lost a fight with an alicorn. “It’s all I had.”
Aodhan sighed, somehow managing to make exactly the same sound as he had in alicorn form. “Please tell me you have a plan as well.”
“Maeve said that if I could find the seelie who took Kevin and prove that I’m his mother, they’d have to give him back,” Cathy said, feeling a touch defensive. “Just like she would have had to return him when I asked, if she still had him.”
From the look Aodhan gave her, this plan had so many holes it could be used to drain pasta. “Human, the instant the Summer Knights detect an adult human in their realm, they’ll be all over you like flies on day-old carrion, and I can promise they won’t be interested in talking. I don’t care how great a warrior you are, you can’t—”
“Warrior?” She couldn’t hold back an explosive bubble of laughter. “Me?”
His brow furrowed. “You’re taking on an entire nation with a frying pan. And you’re trying to tell me you’re not a warrior?”
“I’m a—” Twelve years, and she still nearly said ‘horticulturist,’ damn it. She stuttered, correcting herself. “That is, I work as a dental receptionist.”
From Aodhan’s expression, he was picturing something very different to her actual job. “You take people’s teeth? As what, battle trophies?”
“No!” He couldn’t seriously have mistaken her for a warrior, could he? “I answer the phones, and book people in for their appointments, and take care of all the general admin. Absolutely no combat involved. I’ve never held a weapon in my life.”
“Let me get this straight,” Aodhan said, very slowly, as though he were having trouble processing what he’d just heard. “You’re heading straight into certain death, with nothing but the clothes on your back and a defective cooking implement, when you can’t even fight?”
Cathy could feel the blush creeping up her neck. She’d faced down Maeve without blinking, but now she dropped her gaze.
“You must think I’m very stupid,” she mumbled.
“I think you are quite likely the bravest person I have ever met,” Aodhan said, so deadpan that Cathy couldn’t tell whether he was being totally sincere or unbelievably sarcastic. “Which, it must be said, is often indistinguishable from utter stupidity. This, alas, seems to be one of those times. Are you truly determined to continue with this doomed rescue attempt?”
Cathy stared at her hands, still clutching the edge of the frying pan. Even to her own eyes, her fingers looked thin and weak.
“He’s my son.” She looked up, meeting Aodhan’s icy blue eyes. “I have to try.”
“Of course you do.” Aodhan let out another of those deep, expressive sighs. “And I’m coming with you.”