Heart's Blood

me?”The deception was cruel, but I could see no other way.

The ghost child took the doll in her arms, cradling her. She said nothing more, but the question was written on her face: When are you coming back?

“I might be gone a long time,” I said. “I know you’ll do a good job with Roise. She needs someone to love her, just like all of us. Goodbye, little one.”

Fianchu was on his feet now, ears pricked, stance alert.Very possibly, he understood enough to go bounding off and wake his master the moment I went out the door.

“Fianchu,” I said, making sure I had his full attention. “Guard her.” I pointed to the ghost girl. “Stay here and guard her!”

Fianchu sat. His little eyes, fixed on me, were entirely knowing. But he was a dog and it was his job to obey.

“Good boy. Stay here until the sun’s up.You too,” I told the girl. “He will look after you.”

I crept out the door, along the gallery, down the steps. Shades of gray inhabited the garden; eyes watched me from under the dark trees. Across the courtyard, a lamp still burned in Anluan’s quarters. The mad woman inside me stirred—go to him, run to him, now, now—but I quashed her pleas. I walked down the path, out the gap in the fortress wall, into the forest.

Nobody came after me. I pictured the ghost child in the bedchamber, the doll pressed to her skinny chest. I imagined I could see in her eyes the pain of yet another betrayal, another abandonment.

My thoughts showed me Anluan, alone in his quarters, staring empty-eyed at the wall, or seated on his bed with his head in his hands, long fingers threaded through his fiery locks. Foolish imaginings. More likely he was working out how to form an army from wayward specters, untrained villagers and reluctant neighbors. Perhaps, now that he had dealt with me, he had put me right out of his mind.

My foot hit a stone. My hands tightened on the writing box. I teetered a moment, then regained my balance. It was not yet light; the woods were full of shifting shadows. As I went on down the track, I felt a tug on my left arm; a tweak at my right shoulder. A whisper in my ear: Wrong, all wrong . . . Poor silly girl, what were you thinking? And on the other side: Wretched Caitrin, sorrowful girl . . . Who wants you? Where can you go? Where can you be safe now?

A pox on the wretched creatures, whatever they were. I would leave. I would find somewhere to go. I did not belong at Whistling Tor. I should never have let myself see it as home. A fool. A cursed fool of a woman.

Oh yes, a cursed fool . . .You cannot stay here.You cannot go home. He’s there, the one who turns you into a helpless child. Poor lonely Caitrin. Nowhere to go, no one to love you . . .

I swatted at the unseen presence by my right ear. The other spoke by my left.

Come this way, down this little winding path . . .

Come with us! Follow us . . .You will be safe forever . . .

Invisible hands clutched onto my skirt and my cloak. They gripped my bag, tugging backwards, almost toppling me. I opened my mouth to cry out a protest, then shut it again. Make a noise and I’d alert Rioghan or one of the others to my solitary departure. Box wedged under my arm, I managed to form the shape of a cross with my fingers.“Kyrie eleison; Christe eleison,” I muttered.

There was a momentary slackening of the uncanny grip; then it tightened again. So much for the efficacy of a Christian prayer. I forced down a powerful urge to scream.

A violent push. I fell.The writing box crashed to the path. Something was hauling on my bag again, trying to rip it from my back. “Stop it,” I whispered, struggling to draw air into my lungs. “Leave me alone . . .”

“Leave her alone!”

The voice was Gearrog’s, and it was Gearrog’s hands that lifted me to a sitting position, then retrieved the box and set it safely down by me. For a while, all I did was try to breathe. The insidious whispers had ceased; I sensed the two of us were alone.

Gearrog squatted down beside me, his plain features creased with worry. From time to time he reached out to pat me awkwardly on the shoulder, but he seemed reluctant to do more.

“Thank you,” I gasped eventually. “You saved me again. Gearrog, I’m going away. Will you walk to the foot of the hill with me? I need you to keep me safe.”

“Me?”

There was a lot in that little word: I hurt you. Aren’t you afraid of me? I failed at my job, and Anluan was angry. I betrayed your trust.

“Please.”

He helped me up, his big hands gentle. I gave him the bag to carry; I took the writing box.We walked down the path together.

“Why would you go away, my lady?” Gearrog asked after a while. He held his voice to a murmur, and his tone was diffident.

“He said I had to leave. Anluan.” Despite my best efforts, my voice shook. “He doesn’t want me.” It hurt to speak this bleak truth aloud.

Gearrog kept walking, steady and quiet at my side.We had gone some distance before he spoke again. “That can’t be right,” he said.

“It is right. He told me, just now.”

A lengthier silence, full of things unspoken.

“He’d be sending you away to keep you safe.”