Frae gaped up at the stranger in horror, and then it hit her: nothing she could say would change his mind. He was going to take her to the west, whether she wanted to go or not, and her panic surged.

“Jack!” she screamed, fighting to slip away. “Jack!” She remembered her slingshot in her hand. The stone she held in the other.

Frae whirled and hurled the rock at the Breccan’s face. It smashed into his nose, and he grunted, releasing her. She took that slender moment to run again, thinking she was fast, she could outrun him—

“Jack!” she cried as the Breccan caught her again.

He was no longer gentle. With one hand, he covered her mouth. With the other, he picked her up and began to carry her to the river.

The world felt upside down. Frae flailed, kicking and biting his palm, but the Breccan wouldn’t release her. Her terror was sharper than a knife, cutting her up from within.

She could hear the water splashing as the Breccan carried her upstream. He slid a plaid over her eyes and a gag into her mouth.

She dropped Jack’s slingshot in the river.

“Jack?” Mirin’s voice broke his reveries. She touched his arm. “Jack, what are you going to do with what I’ve told you?”

She was afraid of what the clan would do to her. If the news came to light of her love for the enemy, it would destroy her life.

It would destroy him and Frae.

Jack swallowed, but it felt like his heart was in his throat when he whispered, “I’m not sure yet, Mum.” He looked at Mirin, remembering Bane’s words. “I can’t tell you how I know this, but I was informed that you might know where the lasses are being held in the west.”

Mirin startled. “What? I . . . I have no idea, Jack.”

Jack decided some tea would help them both get through this conversation. He needed to do something with his hands, and he thought about how to frame his next questions as the kettle boiled. He was pouring two cups of tea when he heard a faint shout.

“Did you hear that?” he asked, setting the kettle down.

Mirin fell quiet. “No, what was it, Jack?”

He thought it might have been Frae, and a chill swept through him as he strode to the window, opening a shutter. He could see the cows in the byre, but his sister wasn’t there.

Maybe she was in the backyard.

Jack began to head to the door when he heard it, clearer this time. Frae was screaming for him, and his blood went cold. He and Mirin both rushed to the garden, but there was no sign of Frae.

“Frae?” he shouted, stomping through the vegetables. “Frae!”