Liam said, “Bree likes ’ita.”

We looked down at the little boy. “Does Bryluen like Rita better than Danika?” I asked.

He nodded.

“Why does she like her better?”

He looked very serious, as if he were thinking hard, then said, “’ita plays.”

“Rita plays more than Danika,” I said.

He nodded, smiling.

“Do you and Bryluen tell Rita what to play?”

“Bree does,” he said, smiling.

“And does Rita always play the way Bree wants?”

He nodded solemnly.

Maeve looked down at the baby in her arms. “Her gaze has a weight to it, Meredith.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can resist it, but she just seems such a beautiful child. It’s peaceful to look at her.”

“It’s a compulsion, isn’t it?”

Maeve nodded, face very serious, as she looked at me. “We’ll interview some nonhuman nannies. I’ll call the agency and see if they have any available. If they don’t have any, then we should ask in the larger fey community.”

“Agreed, and until we find someone, Rita shouldn’t help take care of the triplets anymore,” I said.

Bryluen started to fuss, and Maeve rocked her back and forth. The baby quieted almost immediately, big eyes growing sleepy. “None of the humans should be around her much, Meredith.”

“How did you know that Bryluen likes to be rocked that way, side to side, not up and down?”

Maeve stared down at the tiny baby. “I … I don’t know. I just knew that’s what she wanted.”

“Can you stop rocking her?” I asked.

Maeve stopped, and Bree started to fuss; more rocking and the fussing stopped again. “She cries every time I stop.”

“Try stopping anyway,” I said.

Maeve tried, but eventually she started again. “No, I can’t stop, not for long.”

We stared at each other and for the first time I was afraid of Bryluen, because magic usually gets more powerful with age. She was only a week old; what would she be like in a few years?

“Maybe none of us should take care of Bree by ourselves,” I said, softly.

Maeve went to the crib with the most pink on it. It had been purchased while I was in the hospital, and Kitto had let the clerk talk him into pink ribbons and little lambs. She was able to lay Bree down, but the moment she started fussing Maeve moved to pick her up.

“Don’t pick her up,” I said, and I held Gwenwyfar closer to me.

Maeve turned away, but the baby began to cry and she turned back.

Liam was at the crib now. “Pick her up, Mommy, she wants up.”

Maeve picked Liam up and held him so he could see into the crib better. She was able to walk away with the toddler in her arms, but he wasn’t happy.

“Mommy, pick Bree up, not me!” He started to push to be put down. She let him down and he ran to the crying baby. She turned to go in that direction, too.

“Pick Alastair up,” I said.

She went to my quietly sleeping son and lifted him slowly. He slept through it, though the dogs began to whine around her feet, especially his puppy.

Maeve turned to me. “I can resist her demands now.”

Liam had his tiny hand through the crib bars and had her hand in his. “Up, Bree. Up, Mommy!”

Maeve and I looked at each other. “She’s only a week old, Meredith.”

“I know.”

“If it gets worse, stronger …”

“I know,” I said.

“Why does holding the other babies act as charm against it?” she asked.

“I don’t know.”

“There have been stories of some being so beautiful from babyhood on that all that saw them were entranced, but I thought that was an exaggeration; now I’m not so sure.”

“Do we have anyone here who was that compelling, this young?”

She held Alastair close, and thought. “Aisling. Stories tell how people loved him even as a baby.”

“I saw one of our women claw her own eyes out, so he couldn’t control her with his beauty.”

“A human woman?”

“No.”

“Lesser fey?”

“No, sidhe.”

Maeve shivered, so violently that Alastair protested with a small cry. His puppy came and whimpered at her feet. “Did it work?” she asked.

“Did what work?”

“Did scratching out her own eyes stop him from having power over her?”

“She was able to stop answering questions truthfully, but she was still besotted with him, still magically infatuated. He told her the last sight she would ever see, ever remember, was his face, and she wept. She wept into her hands all blood and gore.” I raised Gwenwyfar so I could smell the top of her head, that clean, pure smell that seemed to make everything all right.

“He was forbidden to use his charms in battle; it was deemed too horrible to make your enemy love you,” Maeve said.

“I didn’t really understand what his power was. I mean, I knew the stories, why he was veiled, but I didn’t really understand until it was too late. I agree, some things are too terrible to use.”

“You wield the hands of flesh and blood, Meredith. They are two of the most horrifying powers the sidhe have ever commanded. How can it be more terrible than that?”

“It’s not lust, but love, obsession that he causes. She screamed when she saw him, when they kissed, as if it were the most horrible sight in the world. I never want to order anything done that causes that sound from another person.”