The memory theft incident is a notable exception — and believe me, I’m not done bitching about it. It’s a good thing he leveled that playing field. I need to know he can’t do it to me again, although I suspect he wouldn’t even if he could. He did have a few valid points. I shut him out every time he got close to me. Rejected him at every turn. I marvel at how well he restrained himself over the subsequent months after that night together. If I’d known what incredible sex we’d had and he kept rejecting me, I’d have gotten more than a little pissy. I’d have half hated that I’d taken his memory away, but it would have been too late to undo it … so … maybe I would have taught him to resist that trick so it could never happen again. I get the impression he’s sometimes stymied, trying to figure out how to cope with me. From what I know of him, he was alone for a long time before me, Fiona the exception, and she was little more than an acquaintance with benefits.

Jada. I like the wench. Brilliant, strong, focused, gifted. I can’t think of many other people I’d want fighting at my back — if only I could believe she wouldn’t stab me in it at the first opportunity. Hate her for taking Dani, but if the kid had to come back as someone else, well, she couldn’t have come back more kick-ass.

I sneak a look at her then remember I don’t have to sneak anything. She really is beautiful. I smile faintly. Good for Dani. I always told her she would be. And there’s no doubt Ryodan thinks so, too. God, he’s got his hands full with that situation. He was practically raising the kid, now she’s a grown, fire-and-ice woman. Trouble behind, trouble ahead.

I’m looking forward to watching it play out.

The climb up the side of the mountain goes smoothly. Though patches of brilliant snow shimmer in the moonlight, we stick to the dark, rocky areas that thawed in the heat of the day’s sun, the better to blend.

Everyone blackened their faces before climbing, not that any of them have fair skin but Jada. We’re all in good physical condition, which renders the cable pulls that were pounded in for tourists unnecessary. At least the Hag picked a popular mountain to stake Christian on the opposite side of. We’d have been in a world of shit if she’d chosen Everest. Fortunately, Everest is too far from Dublin for her purposes. From her attempts to abduct the other Unseelie Princes — who she presumably doesn’t know are dead — she’d planned to eventually stake all of them to the side of Christian’s cliff.

I shudder. Gruesome.

As we begin the final stretch, I ponder the Book’s unnatural silence. I keep waiting for it to begin talking again, throw a few vile images at me, turn me visible at a critical moment, anything. I don’t understand why it’s gone so silent. It’s almost as if it’s actually gone.

It makes me nervous.

In time, I might begin to forget it’s there and wonder if that’s the Sinsar Dubh’s plan. To lull me into lowering my guards, like Barrons and Ryodan did with the princes.

As we navigate a narrow crevice between boulders, Ryodan says in a rough whisper, “When you get close to Christian, talk to him before you touch him. He’s a hair-trigger. You can’t afford to have him jerk and drop the spear. I don’t want any of us to have to climb this bloody cliff twice. Prepare him. He must be able to hold onto it and hold himself on the cliff until she comes again.”

In a low voice, I say, “What if it takes days?”

“Though it would mean he’s died fewer times, let’s hope it doesn’t,” Dageus whispers grimly.

Barrons says softly, “You must judge his condition when you get there. If he’s too weak, come back up.”

“I disagree. If you time it wrong,” Jada whispers, “we could be here for weeks. He’s strong. He’ll hold.”

“Aye. He is Keltar,” Drustan says quietly. “He will hold.”

“Kairos,” Dageus says, “this eve reeks of it. The time is now.”

We continue the ascent in silence. We all know our tasks and have agreed upon a number of contingency plans. I’m already wearing my rappelling harness. Barrons and Ryodan will hook me up and lower me over the side when we reach the top. When I see Christian, I’ll make the call. Jada, Dageus, and Drustan are our lookouts. They’ll have binoculars trained on the Hag’s nest the entire time.

As we ascend the snowy peak, the others drop to low crouches near the ground.

Barrons leads the rest of them, sticking to the barren patches. The moon silvers the mountain with a faint merlot tinge. Invisible, I stride to the cliff’s edge, battling a stiff breeze. I inhale deeply of the crisp cold mountain air. Far to the north I see the needlelike spire where the Hag roosts. Ryodan’s right. Nobody could climb it. Not with her sitting on top of it as she is now, back to us, knitting feverishly away, bloody, snaky hair spilling down her back and bloody, snaky guts from her gown dripping over the side. Even with her gone, it would be a dangerous feat. Although as a potential plan B, we might wait for her to leave and try it, if plan A fails. If I could get into her nest and lie in wait, invisible … wait, I don’t dare stab her. But then again, if everyone else rescued Christian and abandoned me here until I got control of myself again …

Hopefully it won’t come to that.

“Are you ready?” Barrons says in a rough whisper.

I nod, then append it with a “Yes.” I keep forgetting they can’t see me, since I can see them.

“Where are you? Touch me.”

I slip my hand into his, and for a moment he just stands there, looking down at where I am, then he closes his eyes and laces strong fingers with mine. I hear exactly what he’s not saying in them: You better bring your ass back to me, woman.

I reply with mine, Always.

He laughs softly then somehow finds my face and kisses me, light and fast, and I taste him on my lips, need him again, hard and fast and soon.

Then he and Ryodan are groping around on me, hooking pulleys to my rings, preparing me for my first-ever rappelling trip down the side of a twelve-hundred-foot cliff.

Going over the side is the hardest part. The wind is cutting up here, pelleting in stiff gusts. I close my gloved hands on the cable as I ease over the edge, feeling about for footing. I eye the thin cable dubiously. It’s all that’s keeping me connected to life. I’m not sure even I could survive a twelve-hundred-foot fall. I know I wouldn’t like the recovery from it. “Are you going to hook it around something?” I whisper.

“Ryodan already secured it to a rock. You’re safe. We’ve got you,” Barrons replies. “If something goes wrong, you have only to pull yourself up.”

“Your primary objective is getting Christian out of here,” Dageus whispers. “Doona fash yourselves with the rest of us.” Then he adds something in another language.

Drustan says, “Gaelic. A blessing in the old way.”

“Thanks,” I murmur.

“If you prefer, I will go,” Jada says.

I hear something different in her voice and look up, past Barrons, and catch my breath. It’s the first trace of Dani I’ve seen. Jada looks worried. About me.

I smile, but she can’t see it, and say, “I know you would. And appreciate it. But I’ve got it. Just keep an eye on the Hag for me.”

“You have to kick off, Mac,” Ryodan says softly. “Go down a dozen feet, push out gently, drop twenty feet or so, regain the face and repeat.”

“Don’t push out hard,” Jada whispers. “Get your climbing legs. Descend slowly at first.” She doesn’t add and do not puke but I hear the unspoken recrimination in her voice.

I glance down and am instantly sorry I did. I almost puke. I’m hanging above a sheer drop. I can do this, I tell myself. I can do this.

“Did you eat Unseelie, lass?” Drustan whispers.

“Got it on me. Hits fast as a shot of adrenaline.”

“Go,” Barrons says. “We don’t know what shape he’s in or when she’ll next stir.”