He shook his head, eyes wide. "No, you're all right. I trust you. You're like the baird; you want to know about things just to know them. You collect knowledge, like a raven with shiny things. I'm just not sure if it's a good idea if anyone else should start lookin' into." He raised his eyebrows at her. "If you find something altogether convincing, will you run it past Moira before you tell anyone else?"

"Of course," Goneril said, nodding hastily. "It would either be Moira or Faolin or Fiona." She smiled sheepishly. "I don't really talk to anyone else, you know. I'm...I didn't mean to worry you."

"You didn't worry me. Alarmed me a bit, but not worried." He gave her a smile in return, to reassure her.

"Good," Goneril said, looking relieved. "Look, how long are you staying for? You...are you lot leaving before Imbolc?"

"Well, we've got to get your folks back home," he pointed out, "but I'm . . . I really don't want to leave until we know something about Acorn."

Goneril nodded. "Of course," she answered. "I don't think your grandmother would make you leave before that, anyhow. You'll tell me when there's news, won't you?"

"Of course." He gave her a sly grin. "Promise me you won't strangle me sister even if she has it coming?"

Goneril sighed. "I won't strangle her. I'll even try not to hit her, if she promises not to incarcerate me." She frowned. "Do you think there's any way to get on her good side apart from ingratiating myself to her?"

"Depends. Do you like horses?" He shook his head, dismissing the joke. "Or get her chattering about Cnoch-na-Niall, she loves that. Or . . . just be nice. You don't have to be ingratiating; you don't work for her, for pity's sake."

"I tried to be nice," Goneril pointed out. "That's when she got mad at me."