Exton

Back at the place we now call "home", I check my pockets and find no less than three notes, all identical.

Are you in trouble? If yes, find a way to slip us a note next time you're here. Maybe on money?

I have to smile at that. In trouble? That's putting it mildly. But why would these beings have any interest in my troubles? Is this a legitimate offer of help, or - the thought ices my spine - another of Morgan's tricks, to get me to betray myself?

I sit there for hours, thinking… wondering… and toward dawn, I decide.

If there's only one slight chance of escape, I have to take it. For myself. For Conal. Sooner or later, Morgan will kill us both - in one of her famous rages, or from pique, or perhaps from sheer boredom.

Let me see if I can make a bargain with these Tavern folk - the kind the Sidhe are famous for.

They'll have to save both of us - or neither.

My decision made, I conjure a pen and a five-dollar bill and begin to write….