“Go. I will see to the child’s mother.” She lifted her hand to forestall my skeptical reply. “With all the honor and respect you would wish to bestow yourself, my godson. And I will take you to visit when you desire. You have my word.” A direct promise from one of the Sidhe is a rare thing. A kindness is even rarer. But maybe I shouldn’t have been surprised: Even in Winter, the cold isn’t always bitter, and not every day is cruel.
