“It’s alright,” said Kaetha. “I understand. But you don’t have to give us money because you feel sorry.”
“Who said you could anyway?” asked Deorsa.
“It’s not the Order’s money,” explained Kahina. “It’s from one of the people we rescued.”
“Who?” Kaetha asked, feeling sure that Catrin, Meg and Roddie brought nothing but the clothes they were wearing.
“I don’t know his name. He just wanted you to have it. My advice is that you go east to Creagairde. It’s a town built on the steep hillside by Loch Deur. From there you might pay for passage on riverboats from town to town. It would be a swifter way to travel south.”
“We must be getting on,” said Deorsa.
Kaetha surprised Kahina with a hug. “Thank you. I’m glad to have heard your voice.”
“We will meet again,” Kahina whispered. “Farewell.”
The path sloped steadily and, several times, Kaetha was close to stumbling. Eventually, their guides stopped. Mairi gripped Kaetha’s arm at the sound of heavy scraping but Kaetha recognised it from when the tunnel entrance in the forest had been opened.
“This is where you leave us,” said Deorsa when they had passed through an archway of rock. “The path descends into the eastern foothills. I wish you luck on your travels,” he added, though his voice was stern.
Kaetha turned, thinking that perhaps she should have told them about seeing Meraud but, just as she was about to speak, rock clanked and crumbled. She had a last glimpse of their torches before the light was blocked by a wall of stone.
“There you go,” said Mairi. “You can change back now.”
There was a sudden movement in the air and Kaetha gasped as something brushed against her arm. Looking up, she saw Tam, his eyes glinting cat-like in the moonlight.
“So, you’ve been making friends,” he said.
“Was that meant to be a joke?” Kaetha asked. “Where’ve you been?”
Mairi coughed. “When Donnan and Naru found us, I hid him. He became a mouse and I carried him in my pocket.”
“You carried him? I thought you didn’t want me, let alone yourself, to have anything to do with him.”
“I had to make a decision.” She gave Tam a sidelong glance. “Perhaps I’ll live to regret it.”
They found a sheltered place to rest until dawn broke, then trudged on through the foothills. It had passed midday when they first saw signs of people. Sheep grazed around them and no sooner had Kaetha spotted a shepherd, leaning on his crook, than Tam shifted his form into that of a mouse again. She scooped him up just as the shepherd spotted them. He looked like he’d just drank a tankard of vinegar, his lined face set in a grimace with eyes that spoke of distrust.
“I rent this field. You can bloody well get your trespassing carcasses off of it,” he spat, brandishing his crook.
Kaetha felt something brushing over her hair before she realised that Donnan was lifting up her hood. Only then did she remember the cut on her face.
“And you’ll do well to stay clear of the croft over that hill yonder,” the shepherd called after them. “Witches live there in one of those foreign-looking turf cottages, you can’t mistake it. Creatures with dark hearts they are, dark souls and dark ways. You’d be wise to be wary! They’ll cut out your innards to tell their futures, aye, and boil your eyeballs to . . .” his voice faded in the wind.
“What a load of shite,” said Kaetha. “I say we look for the turf cottage and ask the nice women how close we are to Creagairde.”
“You’re so ready to trust anyone who’s tainted with suspicion,” said Mairi.
“Your point?”
“Perhaps being a wee bit more wary of people would be wise.”
“What? You don’t believe that stupid little man, do you?”
“Of course I don’t believe all that about innards and what-not. But who knows what possible truths such bizarre rumours stemmed from.”
Kaetha let out an exasperated sigh. “You don’t understand. People like—”
“Look,” said Donnan, walking between them. “I really don’t want to listen to you two going on like this. Let’s just keep walking.”
They’d passed stone cottages and more flocks, trudging on until, when they crested a hill, the sun cast long shadows before them.
“Ah, I don’t believe it,” muttered Mairi.
What looked like a grassy mound nestled against the slope of the hill. Land before it was sectioned off into livestock pens and crop yielding plots. Kaetha thought she might have overlooked the dwelling itself had she not noticed a door and a window set into its turf walls. One woman emptied a bucket, pigs gathering to fight over the prizes. A second woman was pulling up root vegetables. The latter looked up, her straw hat shading her face.
“And they’ve seen us,” said Mairi.
“They don’t look like the sort to boil eyeballs,” said Donnan as he caught up with Kaetha, Mairi trailing after them.
“Good evening,” said the woman in the straw hat.
“Hello,” said Kaetha. “Could you tell us how far we are from Creagairde?”
“Not far. The outskirts are just beyond the next hill,” she said, nodding in the direction they were heading and wiping her soil-coated hands on her apron, heedless of the dirt smeared on her face. She had piercing blue eyes and hair so fair she could be a Hildervalder, only her accent was Dalrathan.
“Thank you,” said Donnan.
“No need for thanks. D’ya have somewhere to stay there? It’ll be dark soon enough.”
“No. Not yet,” said Kaetha. “We’re looking to take a riverboat south.”
“No one will be setting off now. You’ll have to wait for morning.” With a sweeping look, she studied their faces, her gaze lingering on Kaetha’s cut. “Stay with us if you like. The town gates will be closing soon.”
“That’s very generous
