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path.
    “Cerball,” I began, “what—”
    “No cause for alarm, my lady.” Cerball raised his voice. “Oak and shield!”
    “Birch and blade!” came the response. Weapons were slid into sheaths, grins appeared on weathered faces, and one of the guards strode forward to stand by the gelding that bore Rhian and me.
    “Lady Maeve,” the fellow said. “Welcome home.”
    “Thank you.” I held my head high as Aunt Liadan had taught me and tried not to notice the flicker of uneasiness in the man’s eyes; where Cerball and his companions had been well prepared for our first meeting, this guard failed to school his reaction on seeing me close up. Folk tended to find my appearance pleasing enough on first glance, especially if I wore a veil over my hair, formuch of my face was not burned. Aunt Liadan had told me I looked very much as my mother had when young. If I dispensed with the veil, people saw the mark that disfigured my brow and temple on the left side, and the patch where my hair would not grow. On second glance they noticed my hands. Then their expressions would turn to pity or, in the case of some folk, disgust. After that, they generally looked away.
    “My name is Rhodri, my lady. Cerball will have explained about the sad loss of Lord Sean’s uncle. If not for that, your father would have been here to welcome you.”
    “I understand. Do we ride straight on to the keep, Rhodri?”
    “It’s a long way, as you may recall, my lady. We’ll provide some refreshments here before you go on, and something for the horses.”
    I could not remember how far it was; when I had lived here as a child, I had rarely traveled beyond the borders of the forest. But, as before, I did not feel I could ask the question. “Thank you.”
    “We’re to provide two more for the escort,” Rhodri went on, glancing at Cerball. “Lord Sean’s orders.”
    Cerball nodded, and we rode on to the watchtower, where more armed men were waiting near a shelter at the foot of the poles. I did wonder about the escort; it seemed to me Cerball’s five men-at-arms and the two who had come with us from Harrowfield, along with three grooms, was surely more than sufficient. But then, there was the tale of the Disappearance, and in particular the way those men had turned up dead, one after another, within this very forest. That must weigh heavily on the whole household. I held my tongue on the matter. I had been away a long time; perhaps long enough to forget what a deeply unusual place the forest of Sevenwaters was.
    Bread, cheese and ale were brought out from the shelter at the foot of the tower. I refused the food but drank the ale, holding the cup between my wrists. The horses were tended to. Rhian wrapped a portion of the food in a cloth and put it in her pouch. Then we mounted again and rode into the forest.
    I had not thought it would be so far. As children, my sisters and I used to go up on the roof sometimes, though Mother frownedon it as unsafe. From our perilous perch the forest resembled a magical garment of every shade of green. It wrapped itself around the keep and shawled the shining expanse of the lake and stretched as far as the eye could see. Today, riding along a shadowy track that seemed all too ready to lose itself under the oaks, I could understand why outsiders found the place unsettling. It was said that the pathways through this forest had a habit of suddenly changing. A way that not long ago had led a traveler directly to the keep might now take him on a twisting, tangling route to nowhere. This odd phenomenon did not apply to the Sevenwaters family; for us, the paths led where they should. At least, that was the story.
    Rhian knew this tale from me, but it did nothing to dampen her excitement. She looked one way, then the other, her eyes shining, her cheeks flushed pink. Plainly she was hoping to spot a clurichaun under the trees or a sylph up in the branches. My sister Sibeal used to say that you saw such beings only