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spoke out of turn. My apologies. I shan’t broach the subject again.”
    The Scribe mistook Lugh’s lack of understanding as discouragement, for denial was oft used as a Seelie tactic when reprimanding. “Willem, will you not speak frankly and fully? For I meant not to deter your line of inquiry. Perhaps it is time for what?”
    The Scribe paused, gaze still cast away. He sighed, finally verbalizing what tormented him, as though releasing the burden of it physically ached. “To bring Rhiannon home.”
    The shock of comprehension so stunned Lugh that he could do nothing but blink. His body froze as if a lance struck right into his heart, pinning him.
    “I have angered you.” Willem slipped to his feet in his haste to escape reproach.
    Lugh’s longer strides overtook the Scribe. With a straight arm he slammed the door closed before the Scribe could fully open it. He snatched the Scribe’s elbow and spun him about. His heart failed to beat for fear he’d misheard. “Rhiannon wasn’t in the Mounds when it Collapsed? You know this?”
    “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. The All-Mother’s motives and judgments aren’t for me to question. I only thought you knew or I wouldn’t have uttered a sound.”
    Lugh fisted the lapel of Willem’s shirt, not to intimidate, but to capture this fleeting glimmer of hope before, like gossamer, it vanished before him. “Danu has perished. You have pledged your aid to recreate a fey realm. We can ill afford to bury secrets with the dead. Withhold nothing from me. Do you understand? Do you so affirm?”
    “I swear it.” Willem’s hands covered Lugh’s.
    “Then speak. Confide in me.” He barely constrained the hope that struggled to burst free of his caution.
    “Danu favored Manannan greatly. I’ve never seen her so enamored of any of the Seelie kings before him. Periodically, a Sidhe threatened Manannan’s goal for the unification of the courts. Danu said they were confused. Sick. Poisoned by the lies of the Unseelie.”
    Lugh’s grip tightened. “What did she do?”
    “She sent them away. She forced them to retreat. To allow them time to heal.” He swallowed and then confessed, “To prevent them from interfering with the unification.”
    “Where are they?” Lugh demanded.
    “I don’t know, but not in the Mounds. They would’ve been too easily discovered there.”
    “Which means that Danu detained these Sidhe somewhere on the surface. Trapped. Helpless and Fading as surely as we.”
    Lugh released the Scribe. With a hand against Willem’s breastbone, Lugh wordlessly discouraged him from pursuing.
    As he strode away from the Scribe’s suite his thoughts tumbled. Searching. Repositioning the facts as he knew them. Rearranging the assumptions. Turning things over and finding a new shape to the events of the past few centuries.
    Lugh barged into the chamber where Danu’s body reposed. Still beautiful. Still perfect. Encased in a glass casket.
    His hand stroked the glass over the All-Mother’s young features. “I trusted you,” he murmured. “Is what Willem says true?”
    Lugh’s fingers glided over the silver dagger that had taken her life and now rested easily within Danu’s gloved hands, the blade gleaming on the white brocade between her breasts. So much he didn’t know. So many lies. Was this what culminated in her murder? This conspiracy? What had happened the day the Mounds collapsed?
    Lugh studied Danu’s serene face. “After Rhiannon began campaigning against Manannan, you implored me to convey her to you, knowing she would venture, fully trusting me, anywhere I escorted. You reassured me that, with your council, she chose to take a sabbatical. Did you deceive me?”
    His fingers brushed over the glass, as if trailing through her long, golden hair. “I loved you. As we all loved you.” His hand withdrew from the glass. “As we had no recourse but to love and obey you, Creatrix.”
    Lugh backed away from her. “The Unseelie suspected that their