Jack listened. He took a step closer to the ruins. “Wait!” he said. “I hear it too.”

Their party fell painfully silent. The wind was gusting, and the fire was still crackling, but there was a small voice, calling in the distance.

Shouts rose. The watchmen had now heard it, or perhaps had seen something.

Grace and Hendry broke into a frantic run to their demolished home. Jack was behind them, the Elliott brothers and the guards in his wake. They darted through the ruins, emerging on the other side of the yard, facing the dark, looming southern sky.

Through the languid dance of smoke, Jack could discern a little girl hurrying down a hill. She was coming from the very trail he and Torin had taken to reach the Elliotts’ croft. The direction of Mirin’s lands. Her brown hair was braided with ribbons, her dress was clean and immaculate, and yet her face was crumpled with emotion as she saw her parents.

“Eliza!” Grace shouted, sweeping the girl into her arms.

Hendry and the two brothers gathered around her, until Jack could no longer see the lass. But he felt the weeping, the joy, the wonder as the family was reunited.

Slowly, he sank to his knees, overcome with the bewildering realization.

A missing girl had been found.

Eliza Elliott had come home on the heels of a raid.

Part Three
A Song for Wind

Chapter 18

Sidra was in a dreamless sleep when she felt Graeme’s hand on her shoulder.

“Sidra, lass. Adaira is here for you.”

She roused in an instant, blinking as she sat upright. Graeme had given her his bed in the corner, while he had been sleeping on a pallet before the fire. Carefully, Sidra walked around the cluttered table to find Adaira standing on the threshold.

Instantly, Sidra knew something was wrong. Adaira’s face was pale and lined with worry.

“What’s happened?” Sidra asked in a wavering voice.

“I need your help at the castle today,” Adaira said. “Get dressed and meet me in the yard. Bring your herbs.”

Sidra nodded, rushing to don her clothes behind the wooden dressing panel. She drew on the same skirt and bodice she had worn the day before, and she noticed her hands were trembling as she knotted her boots.

“Here, lass,” Graeme said on her way out, handing her an oatcake wrapped in cloth as well as her basket of healing supplies. “If you stay at the castle tonight, send word and let me know.”

“I will, Da,” Sidra agreed, thanking him for the breakfast as she walked out the door.

Adaira and two of her guards were waiting on the road, mounted on horses. Sidra approached Adaira and hauled herself up into the saddle behind her. It was awkward with her basket, but Sidra held it close to her side, her other arm wrapping around Adaira’s slender waist.