He reflected on the day. How sweet the eastern wind had tasted, how it had touched Adaira’s hair as she stood before him when they spoke their vows.

He envisioned wings, gliding over the hills, beating against the stars. Stealing words and carrying them across the heather. Chasing rain and dancing with smoke.

Slowly, he remembered years he had once longed to bury.

Jack began to write a song for the spirits of the wind.

Chapter 16

It was sweltering by noontide. A hazy, sun-drenched day for the first trade to take place between east and west. Jack stood beside Adaira in an old fisherman’s hut, with a crate of the Tamerlaines’ best grains, honey, milk, and wine at their feet. The goods had been gathered in secret and were ready to be carried down to the northern coast, where they would meet Moray Breccan. Their only obstacle was Torin, who hovered between them and the hut’s door.

“This is foolish, Adi,” he said, glaring at her. “You should let me come with you.”

“We’ve already discussed this, Torin,” Adaira said in a clipped tone. She was exhausted. Jack knew they had both stolen only a few hours of sleep last night, in their separate beds. “I’m to approach unarmed and without my guard, as is Jack.”

“Aye, so Moray Breccan can sink an arrow into you,” Torin said. “And I won’t be there to stop it, or even see it happen.”

Adaira was quiet, but her eyes were on her cousin. “What are you afraid of, Torin? Give this fear a name, so I can put your mind at ease.”

That brought Torin upright. He stared at her, jaw clenched and eyes glinting in the light.

In that tense moment, Jack saw through the captain as if he were made of glass. Torin never wanted to appear weak or incapable; Jack imagined this must be a Tamerlaine trait. Pride and the need to appear invincible must have been passed down in their blood, generation after generation.

“If they kill you,” Torin said in a low voice. “I will burn the west to the ground. I won’t spare a single Breccan life.”

“You would kill innocent women and children, Torin?” Adaira countered. She didn’t give him a chance to reply before she continued. “You’re afraid of losing me. I understand your fear because I have also felt its many shades. But while I may be your imminent laird, I am not yours to lose. I belong to the clan as a whole, and my choice to participate in the trade today is for the good of all the Tamerlaines.”

Torin sighed. “Adi . . .”

“I’m also going to find an answer we are desperate to know,” she said, touching her bodice, where the last Orenna flower had been tucked away in a vial.

Torin’s scowl only deepened. He knew what she inferred. “Did Sidra put you up to this?”