Innes glanced again at the cliffs, his lean face troubled, then bent his head in acquiescence.
“Well, it’s you as shall say, Mac Dubh. But ye ken we are willing—all of us.”
Jamie nodded, his face turned away.
“Aye, I ken that fine, Duncan,” he said softly. Then he turned back, held out an arm, and Innes embraced him, his one arm awkwardly thumping Jamie’s back.
“If a ship should come,” Jamie said, letting go, “then I wish ye to take heed for yourselves. The Royal Navy will be looking for that pinnace, aye? I doubt they shall come here, looking, but if they should—or if anything else at all should threaten ye—then leave. Sail away at once.”
“And leave ye here? Nay, ye can order me to do a great many things, Mac Dubh, and do them I shall—but not that.”
Jamie frowned and shook his head; the rising sun struck sparks from his hair and the stubble of his beard, wreathing his head in fire.
“It will do me and my wife no good to have ye killed, Duncan. Mind what I say. If a ship comes—go.” He turned aside then, and went to take leave of the other Scots.
Innes sighed deeply, his face etched with disapproval, but he made no further protest.
It was hot and damp in the jungle, and there was little talk among the three of us as we made our way inland. There was nothing to say, after all; Jamie and I could not speak of Brianna before Lawrence, and there were no plans to be made until we reached Abandawe, and saw what was there. I dozed fitfully at night, waking several times to see Jamie, back against a tree near me, eyes fixed sightless on the fire.
At noon of the second day, we reached the place. A steep and rocky hillside of gray limestone rose before us, sprouted over with spiky aloes and a ruffle of coarse grass. And on the crest of the hill, I could see them. Great standing stones, megaliths, in a rough circle about the crown of the hill.
“You didn’t say there was a stone circle,” I said. I felt faint, and not only from the heat and damp.
“Are you quite well, Mrs. Fraser?” Lawrence peered at me in some alarm, his genial face flushed beneath its tan.
“Yes,” I said, but my face must as usual have given me away, for Jamie was there in a moment, taking my arm and steadying me with a hand about my waist.
“For God’s sake, be careful, Sassenach!” he muttered. “Dinna go near those things!”
“We have to know if Geilie’s there, with Ian,” I said. “Come on.” I forced my reluctant feet into motion, and he came with me, still muttering under his breath in Gaelic—I thought it was a prayer.
“They were put up a very long time ago,” Lawrence said, as we came up onto the crest of the hill, within a few feet of the stones. “Not by slaves—by the aboriginal inhabitants of the islands.”
The circle was empty, and innocent-looking. No more than a staggered circle of large stones, set on end, motionless under the sun. Jamie was watching my face anxiously.
“Can ye hear them, Claire?” he said. Lawrence looked startled, but said nothing as I advanced carefully toward the nearest stone.
“I don’t know,” I said. “It isn’t one of the proper days—not a Sun Feast, or a Fire Feast, I mean. It may not be open now; I don’t know.”
Holding tightly to Jamie’s hand, I edged forward, listening. There seemed a faint hum in the air, but it might be no more than the usual sound of the jungle insects. Very gently, I laid the palm of my hand against the nearest stone.
I was dimly conscious of Jamie calling my name. Somewhere, my mind was struggling on a physical level, making the conscious effort to lift and lower my diaphragm, to squeeze and release the chambers of my heart. My ears were filled with a pulsating hum, a vibration too deep for sound, that throbbed in the marrow of my bones. And in some small, still place in the center of the chaos was Geilie Duncan, green eyes smiling into mine.
“Claire!”
I was lying on the ground, Jamie and Lawrence bending over me, faces dark and anxious against the sky. There was dampness on my cheeks, and a trickle of water ran down my neck. I blinked, cautiously moving my extremities, to be sure I still possessed them.
Jamie put down the handkerchief with which he had been bathing my face, and lifted me to a sitting position.
“Are ye all right, Sassenach?”
“Yes,” I said, still mildly confused. “Jamie—she’s here!”
“Who? Mrs. Abernathy?” Lawrence’s heavy eyebrows shot up, and he glanced hastily behind him, as though expecting her to materialize on the spot.
“I heard her—saw her—whatever.” My wits were coming slowly back. “She’s here. Not in the circle; close by.”
“Can ye tell where?” Jamie’s hand was resting on his dirk, as he darted quick glances all around us.
I shook my head, and closed my eyes, trying—reluctantly—to recapture that moment of seeing. There was an impression of darkness, of damp coolness, and the flicker of red torchlight.
“I think she’s in a cave,” I said, amazed. “Is it close by, Lawrence?”
“It is,” he said, watching my face with intense curiosity. “The entrance is not far from here.”
“Take us there.” Jamie was on his feet, lifting me to mine.
“Jamie.” I stopped him with a hand on his arm.
