Page 89 of The Mirror of Beasts

“If he’s a Ci Annwn, how did he get to this world?” I asked.

“I assume his line was left behind when the pathways to the Other-lands closed,” Nash said. “And he was the last of his kind here.”

“And what about me?” I asked. “Where did I come from?”

Nash’s face hardened. “I’ve told you the tale. It’s not one I’m fond of repeating.”

“You told me you won me in a game of cards in Boston,” I said. “Who were my parents? What’s my family name? If I’m old enough to know about my curse, I’m old enough for that piece of truth.”

“You want the truth?” he said, drawing himself up and off the floor. “The truth is, I don’t know. I never thought to ask.”

“You’re lying,” I said incredulously. “Why are you lying?”

I could have screamed at the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs. The others seemed to realize they’d wandered into a private moment, because they froze awkwardly midway through the door.

“Should we … come back later?” Neve asked carefully.

“Ladies,” Nash said. “Come on in and settle down for the night.”

“We’re not done with our conversation,” I told him.

“Aren’t we?” he shot back. “I think you should all—”

Whatever he’d intended to say cut off with his sharp gasp. His face turned livid as he dropped his empty coffee mug and launched himself toward the stairs. Caitriona lashed a protective arm out in front of Neve.

“What are you doing?” I shouted.

But Nash hadn’t been going for Neve—his focus had been on the kitten nestled between her hands. Gripping him by the scruff, Nash freed Griflet and, with a guttural growl, flung the kitten toward the center of the attic.

Neve’s scream was strangled off as the cat’s shape exploded into bands of light and pressure, becoming little more than air until it began to reassemble itself into different forms—a bird, a snake, something like human, his face striking as he turned toward us with dark, feverish eyes that gleamed like flecks of obsidian. That form was still burned in my mind as it shifted one final time into a spider.

“Grab it!” Nash barked.

He and Caitriona lunged forward, but the spider had already darted past their feet and scurried down the stairs. Caitriona rushed out after it, her steps pounding down into the foyer.

I knew there was no point. The creature was gone.

“What,” Neve managed to get out, “was that?”

Nash whirled on me, spitting mad. “Of all the foolish things, Tamsy! Did I not teach you how to spot a pooka years ago?”

“Uh, no,” I said when I found my voice again, “you didn’t.”

“Oh—” His anger deflated, only to surge again. “Well, I meant to!”

“That was … what?” Neve began. “That was a pooka?”

“Blistering boils,” Nash said, tugging a hand back through his hair. “I should have known they’d be spying on you lot.”

“Who?” Neve asked. It came to her a moment later. “You mean the Council of Sistren?”

“Who else deploys pookas as spies and companions?” Nash said. “How long has that cat been with you?”

“Since Avalon,” I said. “Before the merging.”

He swore and began to pace, his face twisted with indecision.

Neve stomped toward the stairs. “That thing slept with us, and ate our food, and—he watched us change! I’m going to squish that little spider until he’s a splat on the ground—”

---