“Come and eat something, Adaira,” Jack replied. He was sitting by the hearth, where he had called up a tea tray for them. “You can’t maintain your strength if you don’t feed yourself.”

She knew Jack was right, but her stomach was wound in a knot, wondering what Eliza had been through. Wondering where the other lasses were.

She tried to take a bite of a scone but set it back down and resumed her restless pacing. “If they harmed this child . . . the Breccans will wish they had never been born. I will teach them not to steal lasses. I will burn the west into ashes. I will raze it to the ground.”

Jack rose and stood before her. She knew she sounded like Torin. Her cousin who was missing. The captain of the guard, whose reluctance to trust the Breccans had been well founded all along. It only made her temper flare brighter until she felt Jack’s cold hands frame her face.

“We still need proof it’s them. But there are two things we can do at the moment, Adaira,” he said in a calm voice. “The first? You should write to Moray Breccan. Don’t say a word about Eliza, but give him an ultimatum. Tell him that you will grant him one day to return what his clan has stolen from us, or else the future of the trade and your visit is forfeit. Make no declarations of war yet. The second? I’m composing a ballad for the spirits of the wind. I believe I can have it completed very soon, if I spend most of my hours devoted to it.”

Adaira studied him. Her heart was pounding in excitement as well as fear as she listened to his suggestions. “I don’t want you to play for the wind, Jack.”

He frowned, his hands falling away from her. “Why not? They are the most powerful of the spirits. They have sealed the mouths of the earth and the water. They have no doubt seen where the west is holding the girls. If I summon them, they could give us the confirmation we need to find and bring the lasses home.”

Adaira sighed. “I don’t want you to play because it drains your health.”

“And yet this is why you called me home, Adaira,” he said gently. “We are so close to solving this mystery. Please use me and my gift to find the answers you need.”

She felt torn, though she knew he was right.

A knock sounded on the door. Adaira was relieved to see it was Sidra, returning from the examination.

“How is Eliza?” she asked.

“From what I can tell,” Sidra began, “she suffered no physical trauma. She was gently looked after, well fed, and rested during her time away. But her inability to speak about what happened tells me that she is afraid, and that someone threatened her to stay silent.”