“It’s alright, Mairi,” said Kaetha. “He won’t hurt us.” But she could see the terror in her stepmother’s eyes as she took in his fierce, scarred face. “Put down the knife, Mairi. The danger’s passed. We’re fine.”
Mairi kept the knife pointed at Tam. “What – is that – thing?”
“You can call him Tam. Tam Wildshore. He’s a Baukan.”
Mairi looked from Kaetha, to Donnan, to Tam. “A Baukan? How are you acquainted with such a creature? And that fire?” Shook her head. “Don’t tell me— Please don’t tell me—” she began, her voice breaking.
“That I have magic?” said Kaetha. “Well I do. But it’s alright Mairi, you don’t have to be—”
“I don’t know what’s alright and what’s not anymore.” Light danced on the blade as it shook in her hand. “What’s dangerous and what’s not. But, Kaetha, this path you’re on,” she shook her head, her chin quivering, “it frightens me. I want you to be safe. You know what can happen to people who use magic. Why are you taking such risks when it could get you killed.”
“But it has the potential to save,” said Kaetha. “I’ve saved Pa before with magic, what if I can again?” She thought of the two of them shielded by fire. “I was scared of my magic once. Whatever you say, I do not intend to be so anymore. Why can’t you just accept me for who I am?”
“I know it’s not your fault you have magic but, please, promise me you won’t use it.” Mairi’s eyes filled with tears. “Please.”
“I can’t. I can’t deny who I am.”
Tam retrieved the hand from the ground, pulling Mairi’s ring from it before tossing the lump of flesh in the fire as if it were a log. Mairi flinched as he approached her, holding out her ring.
Mairi hesitated before taking it. “What do you want with her?” There was a steely threat in the deepened tones of her voice.
“I simply want to accompany you,” said Tam. “I’ve been of help today, perhaps I will be again.”
“But why help us? What’s in it for you?”
“I’m in her debt. I was imprisoned.” Tam turned to Kaetha. “She saved me.”
“It’s true, Mairi,” said Donnan.
“You knew about him?” she said, turning to Donnan. “You trust him?”
Donnan didn’t answer.
“Of course we do,” said Kaetha.
“You don’t understand what you’re doing – what danger . . . Kaetha.” Her last word was a plea, a drop of hope in an ocean of hurt.” She left them then, disappearing into the trees. Kaetha thought she heard her sobbing.
Tam slipped away unnoticed.
Forgetting to be careful of her injury, Kaetha went to twist the cuff of her sleeve, then flinched. “Damn this hand.”
“You could make more of an effort with her,” said Donnan. “She’s finding this hard, you know.”
She laughed bitterly. “Aye, it must be hard having a step-daughter you’re ashamed of.” She looked up at him then. His face was pale, his tired, shadow-rimmed eyes fixed on hers with feverish energy.
“She’s not ashamed of you, Kaetha. She just doesn’t understand you. At times, I’m not sure I do either.”
“You’re saying that about me?”
“You have the chance to have someone in your life who would be like a mother to you.”
“I don’t get chances like that, Donnan. My own mother was persuaded to pretend I wasn’t hers. My father, who left her, didn’t want me to come to Braddon in the first place. He chose to be with Mairi. He didn’t choose me.”
“But hasn’t that changed now? Don’t you know he’d do anything for you? And don’t you think he’d want you to give Mairi a chance?”
“How do you know what he’d want? He’s not your father,” she snapped, “you don’t have—”
“No,” said Donnan, his voice small now. “I don’t.” He walked off. Kaetha stood alone in the clearing, cursing under her breath.
She found him later gathering a bundle of firewood. “Careful of your hand. Look, I’m sorry, I— Donnan?” He had dropped his firewood and was doubled up, clutching his stomach. She rushed over to him. His hands were shaking. “Are you hurt?” She felt his forehead which was cold and clammy. “Come, Donnan. I can make you better, I’m sure of it. Here,” she helped him back to his feet and supported him as they made their way back to the clearing.
“You can’t help me,” he muttered.
Mairi rushed over to them. “What is it? His injury?”
He shook his head.
“He’s unwell,” said Kaetha as they lowered him to the ground. “Let me see what I can find from Cailean’s herbs.”
He shook his head. “There’s nothing in that bag that will help me,” he said.
“Nonsense,” said Kaetha. “At least let me try.”
“What would help you?” asked Mairi.
Donnan stared at the ground, shame etched painfully into his face. “Tears of battle.”
“What?” said Kaetha. “For your hand?”
“I don’t mean that. I just need it,” said Donnan. “But there is none left.” He breathed deeply. “This will pass. It has before.”
“Before?” asked Kaetha. “You’ve been taking it in secret?” She thought back. “Nannie’s supplies were lower than she’d expected. You didn’t . . . ?”
His look was answer enough.He slumped forward with a sigh, putting his head in his hands, his body convulsing with sobs. Mairi crouched beside him, squeezing his shoulder. Kaetha began to recall a number of moments with Donnan over the last year or so when he’d been secretive or his behaviour odd. It was starting to make sense now.
“It’s alright, Donnan. You can talk to us,” she said, taking his hand. When he was calmer, she spoke again. “Why did you start taking opean?”
“Before I came to live in Braddon, I was sleeping on the streets in Kaernock. A monk gave me a dose of it for my
