The Witch’s smile twitched, and it seemed to lessen the strength of the spell on Eibhlin’s mind, for she felt the drowsiness weaken.

“No,” Eibhlin repeated. “No. I won’t accept it. I’m not here to ask you for those kinds of services. I’m not here to change my past. I’m here to change my future. I’m here for Mealla’s key.”

“R-really? Her key? Are you sure you don’t—”

“No.”

“Perhaps a different time. I can’t send you too close to when you sold your father’s hammer. Her magic is too present then, but I can send you some time before that. You could do something to make it so you don’t sell the hammer in the first place. I can make it so—”

“No! I won’t use your magic. I only came for the key. Nothing else!”

All throughout her body and mind, Eibhlin felt the enchantments loosen and unravel. They didn’t leave, but she felt her thoughts and emotions and senses return to her own control.

Arianrhod’s smile was now clearly strained. “Only the key?”

“Nothing but Mealla’s key.”

At last the smile transformed into a frown. The dread Eibhlin had held onto now turned against her as fear shook her conviction, but even as the fairy’s face darkened, Eibhlin did not back down. Then the fairy’s face suddenly shifted again to a slight smile. Arianrhod sighed. “Oh, very well! You want the key? Well, I can’t let a customer go without at least attempting to satisfy her. Bad business. Can’t claim I’ll grant any wish if I turn one down.”

With the wave of her fingers, Mealla’s key appeared in the fairy’s hands, its golden-rimmed bow and crystal body shining brighter than the moonlight. Immediately, Eibhlin felt the urge to run forward and grab it, but she kept herself back behind the threshold. The Witch, as if oblivious to the battle in her potential patron’s mind, waved the key slowly through the air as she spoke. “So, you want this key? Well, it’ll be expensive. I procured this from a monk several years ago in exchange for one of my precious Tensilkir. A most valuable exchange. The deal was that so long as I hold this key, the tree will protect the monk’s monastery from danger and draw certain types of people to it. There are a few more details, but I hope you see my point. Once I no longer own the key, that contract is void. I am rather fond of that monk, so that must be factored into the price. Are you sure you still want to purchase this key?”

“What’s your price?” Eibhlin replied.

Arianrhod’s smile sent shivers down Eibhlin’s spine. The Witch replied, “Oh, nothing beyond your reach, but something far beyond my own. Something I cannot obtain on my own. Something of incredible value.”

“Well, what is it?” Eibhlin said.

“Your hair color.”

“My… hair color?”

“Indeed.”

“Why would you want something like my hair color?” said Eibhlin.

Gesturing around her, the fairy answered, “It’s a matter of utility, really. We fairies can take the golden color from sunbeams and use it in our magic, especially with spells like spinning gold. Not for ourselves, of course, but mortals do so desire the stuff. However, potent sunbeams are quite elusive here in the Fae. Politics and all that. Most fairies now risk the Mortal Realm for sunbeams, but my skin is far too delicate, my dear. Why, if I spent too long in the Mortal Sun, I would burn to a crisp! And so, you see, I’m in quite a bind, struggling to obtain one of the most basic ingredients for fairy magic; it’s almost embarrassing. And yet, here you are, practically carrying sunbeams right in your hair. You have not even the faintest idea how much gold I could spin with the concentration you have in your hair. So that is my price: your hair color for her key.”

Something in the fairy’s demeanor, a certain restrained eagerness, unnerved Eibhlin. She wished more than ever that she could speak with the kithara on her back, but it seemed the enchantment had not yet weakened on the instrument.

“Why do you pause? Do you have any use for your hair color?” asked the fairy. “Have humans learned how to spin it into gold?”

“No… No, of course not.”

“Then,” said the Witch, holding the key to the girl’s eyes, “why consider? Why hesitate? You can’t even use your hair color, while I can, and you need this key. It’s simply both of us trading a useless thing for a useful one. No losers, all winners. I will agree to no other offer. If you reject my price, then I keep the key, and where would that leave you? Do you really want to put everything you’ve suffered to waste?”