I coughed. Patrick said, “No, my book stays. Epilogue and all. So do I.”

Behind Gabriel’s back, I shook my head for Ioan. Epil is Welsh for offspring, and the word the fae use to refer to their sons and daughters. Luckily, while I may have used the term in front of Gabriel, he hadn’t been paying enough attention to recognize it now.

“Liv was just about to tell me about her river plunge,” Patrick continued. “If you want to hear it, you may stay.”

“One, I wasn’t about to tell you anything,” I said. “Two, as the patient here, I think I get to decide who stays and who goes. Yes, you may both stay. Yes, I will tell the story … on the condition that you’ll help me figure out what the hell is going on, regardless of our agreement.”

“However,” Gabriel interjected, “any lifting of the terms is temporary, confined to this discussion only, and does not in any way relieve either party of their contractual obligations going forward.”

“Would you like that in writing, Gabriel?” Ioan said.

“Preferably, yes. But in this instance, I believe you and Patrick can act as our witnesses to each other’s agreement, given that you are unlikely to collude in disavowing that agreement.”

Ioan gave a dismissive wave and moved forward, as if getting closer to my bedside, while effectively putting Gabriel at his back. When my lips tightened, he wisely shifted to the side.

I told Ioan and Patrick the story. When I finished, I said, “The obvious issue here is that there’s a young—apparently human—woman who works with lamaie. And she knows enough to set up fae-detection traps.”

“Mhacasamhail,” Patrick said.

Ioan shook his head. “There’s no such thing as mhacasamhail.”

“No such thing as fairies, either.”

“Don’t I wish,” Ioan muttered.

“Not unless you’re into self-annihilation.”

“The Cŵn Annwn are not—”

“Are, too.”

“My God,” I said. “How old are you two?”

“I’m older,” Patrick said. “Cŵn Annwn don’t live nearly as long as other fae. That’s because—”

Ioan cleared his throat, cutting him off.

“Oh, come on,” Patrick said. “Let me tell her. The rules of the agreement are temporarily suspended.”

Gabriel shook his head. “That opens the door to retaliation, and we have a case to focus on.”

Patrick sighed. “Oh, sure, be reasonable about it.”

“He must get that from his mother’s side,” Ioan said.

I shot him a warning look and said to Patrick, “Tell me more about mha …”

“Mhacasamhail. It’s Gaelic, meaning counterpart or equal, which is not exactly accurate, but it’s the term that was chosen for these families.”

“And if they’re going to pick a term, why not go with the toughest one to pronounce?” I said. “Do I even want to know how it’s spelled?”

“Probably not. The Americans go by samhail. Typical immigration. Come to America and simplify your name because we wouldn’t want anyone to strain themselves linguistically.”

“Uh-huh,” I said. “So modern samhail—”

“—are a fairy tale,” Ioan grumbled. “In the most literal sense of the term.”

“You may state your case for that when Patrick’s done.” Patrick chuckled. “Liv knows when she has the upper hand, and she’s not afraid to use it. Must get that from her mother’s side.”

“Enough,” I said. “Seriously, you two. I feel like I’m trying to plan a wedding with rival mothers-in-law. Patrick, focus. The samhail.”

Patrick explained that they used the word for counterpart to recognize an equal relationship. A symbiotic one. An entire bloodline of the samhail would bond to a specific type of fae and provide any assistance those fae needed when interacting with the human world. In return, the fae would use their powers to enrich the samhail’s lives.

“You may confirm that in my library when you get home,” he said. “I can also tell you Ioan’s side. He’ll say the samhail were real but have long since died out. Whether he actually believes that is another story.”

Ioan bristled. “The Cŵn Annwn do not lie.”

“I know, it’s one of your many failings.”

“Stop,” I said. “Ioan, is he right? The part about the samhail, at least?”

“He is. I will admit that we have had sporadic reports of them. Very sporadic, though, and unproven. I suspect they are humans who know about the fae and assist them but are not samhail.”

“But the lamiae would only accept the girl’s help if there’s a familial bond,” Patrick said. “One allowing them to trust her. I know of no other group who match that description. Do you?”

Ioan hesitated, then shook his head.

“Then I propose that we tell Liv about the samhail,” Patrick said. “On the understanding this young woman may or may not be one of them. Agreed?”

I nodded.

“Excellent. Ioan, the floor is yours. Then Liv may get further information from my library.”

Ioan snorted. “Nice try, bòcan. I’m not telling you what the Cŵn Annwn know about samhail.”

Patrick sighed and turned to me. “I’ll amend my proposal to this: Ioan and I will conclude our visit and allow you to rest, and when you’re released, we’ll provide you with what you need, separately, on the understanding it won’t be shared. Now, Ioan, let’s see if we can walk to the parking garage together without bloodshed.”