I leaped from my chair, drawing surprised looks from everyone in the room.
“We really should go,” I said, not needing to feign my impatience. “My dad is there, right? I don’t want him to be alone when he turns back from being a piano.”
Leanansidhe snorted with amusement, and I realized how odd that sentence sounded, even to me. “Don’t worry, dove. It will take time for the glamour to wear off. But I understand if you have to go. Just remember, my door is always open if you want to come back.” She waved her cigarette at Grimalkin, sitting on the other side of the table. “Grim, darling, you know the way, right?”
Grimalkin yawned widely and stretched. Curling his tail around himself, he regarded the Exile Queen without blinking and twitched an ear. “I believe you and I still have a wager to settle,” he purred. “One that you lost, if you remember.”
“You are a horrid creature, Grimalkin.” Leanansidhe sighed and puffed a smoke-cat into the air, then sent a smoke-hound after it. “It seems I am destined to lose bargains today. Very well, cat, you can have your bloody favor. And may you choke on it when you try to call it in.”
Grimalkin purred and seemed to smile. “This way,” he told me, waving his tail as he stood. “We will have to go back through the cellar, but the trod is not far. Just be wary when we get there—Leanansidhe failed to mention that this particular spot is infested with bogles.”
“What about Goodfellow?” Ash said, before I could ask what a bogle was.
“Should he know where we’re going, or are we going to leave him behind?”
My stomach turned, angry and sullen. “I don’t care,” I growled, and scanned the dining room, wondering if one of the chairs, plates, or utensils was actually Puck in disguise. “He can follow us or not, but he’d better stay out of my way if he knows what’s good for him. I don’t want to see his face for a long time. Come on, Grim.” I looked at the cat, watching us with an amused, half-lidded expression, and raised my chin. “Let’s get out of here.”
BACK THROUGH THE BASEMENT we went, Grimalkin in the lead, down another maze of torchlit hallways to an old wooden door hanging crookedly from its hinges. Sunlight streamed in through the cracks, and birdsong trilled somewhere beyond the door.
I pulled it open and found myself in a dense forest glen, broad-leafed trees surrounding us on every side and a babbling stream cutting through the clearing. Sunlight dappled the forest floor, and a pair of spotted deer raised their heads to watch us, curious and unafraid.
Ash stepped through the stony mound we’d exited, and the door creaked shut behind him. He took in the forest surroundings with one smooth, practiced gaze, and turned to Grimalkin.
“There are several trows watching us from the bushes. Are they going to be a problem?”
Startled, I scanned the clearing, searching for the elusive trows, which, from what I understood, were squat, ugly fey who lived underground, but apart from the deer, we appeared to be alone. Grimalkin yawned and scratched behind an ear.
“Leanansidhe’s groundskeepers,” he said offhandedly. “Nothing to worry about. If you hear feet moving around the cabin at night, it is probably them. Or the brownies.”
“What cabin?” I asked, gazing around the clearing. “I don’t see a cabin.”
“Of course not. This way, human.” Tail up, Grimalkin trotted across the clearing, hopped the stream, and disappeared midjump.
I sighed. “Why does he always do that?”
“I don’t think it was on purpose this time,” Ash said, and took my hand.
“Come on.”
We crossed the glen, passing very close to the deer, who still didn’t run away, and hopped over the little stream.
As soon as my feet left the ground, I felt a tingle of magic, like I was jumping through an invisible barrier. When I landed, I was no longer staring at empty forest but an enormous, two-story lodge with a veranda that circled the entire upper deck and smoke writhing from the chimney. The front of it stood on stilts, a good twenty-something feet off the ground, and gave the front deck a fantastic view of the whole clearing.
I gaped. “This is her ‘quaint little hideaway’? I was thinking more along the lines of a one-room cabin with an out-house or something.”
“That’s Leanansidhe,” Ash said, sounding amused. “She could have glamoured the outside to look like a rundown cabin instead of hiding the whole thing, but I don’t think that’s her style.” He gazed up at the looming structure and frowned. “I hear music.”
My heart jumped. “Piano music? My dad!”
We raced up the steps, taking them two at a time, and burst into the living room, where a cheerful fire crackled in the hearth and the dark strains of piano music pounded from the corner.
My dad sat at the piano bench, his lank brown hair falling into his eyes, his skinny shoulders hunched over the keys. Slouched a few feet away, with his shoes on the coffee table and his hands behind his head, was Puck. Puck caught my gaze and smirked, but I ignored him as I rushed to the piano bench. “Dad!” I had to shout to be heard over the music. “Dad! Do you recognize me? It’s Meghan. Meghan, your daughter. Do you remember?”
He hunched even farther over the keys, pounding on them like his life depended on it. I grabbed his arm and yanked him around, forcing him to look at me. “Dad!”
His hazel eyes, empty as the sky, stared right through me, and I felt an icy spear plunge into my stomach. I let him go, and he immediately went back to playing the piano, pounding the keys as I staggered back and sank into a nearby chair.