Five minutes later, although her head still nodded dangerously, her eyes were open and she was sipping tea.

She’d no use for the abbey. No care for study. Her bones knew truths. What need had a woman of more than bone-knowing? Learning, she scoffed, confused the bones. Reading blinded the vision. Lectures deafened the ears. Look at the land, feel the soil, taste the air!

“Dark days.” I coaxed her to focus. “What happened?”

Nana closed her eyes and was silent so long I was afraid she’d fallen asleep again. When they opened, they glistened with unshed tears.

The two children who’d once played in her garden changed. They became secretive, fearful, exchanging troubled looks. They no longer had time for an old woman. Though she’d been the one to set them on their course, had pointed the way with her bones, they shut her out. They whispered of doings of which Nana had caught only bits and pieces.

Hidden places within the abbey.

Dark temptations.

A book of great magic.

Two prophecies.

“Two?” I exclaimed.

“Aye. One promised hope. One pledged blight upon the earth and more. Both hinged upon a single thing.”

“A thing?” I demanded. “Or a person?”

Nana shook her head. She didn’t know. Had assumed it was a thing. An event. But it might have been a person.

Kat removed the teacup from the old woman’s hand before it spilled. She was nodding off again.

“How was the Book contained in the abbey?” I pressed.

She gave me a blank look.

“Where was it kept?” I tried.

She shrugged.

“When was it brought there and by whom?”

“‘Tis said the queen o’ the daoine sidhe placed it there in the mists o’ time.” A gentle snore escaped her.

“How did it get out?” I said loudly, and she jerked awake again.

“Heard tell ‘twas aided by one in the highest circle.” She gave me a sad look. “Some say yer mam.” Her lids closed. Her face sagged and her mouth fell open.

My hands fisted. My mother would never have freed the Sinsar Dubh. And Alina was not a traitor. And I was not bad. “Who was my father?” I demanded.

“She’s asleep, Mac,” Kat said.

“Well, wake her again! We need to know more!”

“Tomorrow’s another day.”

“Every day counts!”

“Mac, she’s weary. We can begin again in the morning. I’ll be staying the night. She shouldn’t be alone. She should never have been alone this long. Will you be staying, as well?”

“No,” Barrons growled through the door.

I inhaled slowly. Exhaled. I was in knots inside.

I had a mother.

I knew her name.

I knew where I came from.

I needed to know so much more!

Who was my father? Why had we O’Connors been getting so much bad press? Blaming my mother, then my sister, now me? It pissed me off. I wanted to shake the old woman awake, force her to go on.

I studied her. Sleep had smoothed the wizened face, and she looked peaceful, innocent, the hint of a smile touching her lips. I wondered if she dreamed of two young girls playing in her gardens. I wanted to see them, too.

I closed my eyes, flexed that sidhe-seer place, and found it easy to sip at the edges of her mind. It was, like her bones, weary and without defense.

And there they were: two girls, one dark, one blond, maybe seven or eight, running through a field of heather, holding hands and laughing. Was one of them my mother? I pressed harder, tried to shape Nana’s dream and make it show me more.

“What are you doing?” Kat cried.

I opened my eyes. Nana was staring at me, looking frightened and confused, hands tight on the arms of her rocking chair. “‘Tis a gift to be given, no’ taken!”

I stood and spread my hands placatingly. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. I didn’t think you’d even feel me there. I just wanted to know what she looked like. I’m so sorry. I just wanted to know what my mother looked like.” I was babbling. Anger that she’d stopped me vied with shame that I’d tried.

“Ye ken what she looked like.” Nana’s eyes drifted closed again. “Yer mam was e’er takin’ ye to the abbey wi’ her. Search yer memories. ‘Tis there ye’ll be finding her, Alina.”

I blinked. “I’m not Alina.”

A soft snore was her only reply.

It had been, Barrons said, a grand waste of time, and he wouldn’t be escorting me back to see the old woman again.