The horse was lathered by the time she finally saw Mirin’s lights in the distance. Adaira let the mare walk to cool down. She took those precious minutes to mentally prepare herself for the meeting, to run her fingers through her tangled hair. She didn’t know what she would find inside the house, but if everything played out as she had planned, then she had nothing to fear. She unsaddled the horse beneath an oak tree before she and Jack approached the house on foot with trepidation.

Jack’s hand found hers, lacing their fingers together.

As they drew nearer, Adaira could discern figures standing in the yard. Breccan warriors. They had the cottage surrounded, and off to the side toward the byre was a ring of them, illumined by torches. Adaira slowed her pace. The East Guard and the watchmen must have been overcome, and while she didn’t see any bodies lying on the ground, she sensed they were all held captive.

“Halt,” a voice commanded her, breaking the tense silence.

Adaira returned her attention to the yard gate and stopped. Two Breccans aggressively stepped forward to meet her, but as soon as they saw her face by moonlight, their stances changed, softening.

“It is her,” one of them said, lowering his sword. “Let her pass to the door.”

She resumed her walk, drawing Jack in her wake. She felt the Breccans’ gaze on her shoulders, on her hair, as tangible as the wind. All too soon, she reached the front door, and her hand shook as she touched the iron handle.

It swung open, and Adaira stepped into the firelight.

She was overwhelmed by the sight that greeted her. A sea of blue plaids. Mirin and Frae cowering in a corner. Torin on his knees with a dirk shining at his throat.

Innes wasn’t present, and it soon became clear that a scar-faced Breccan with matted blond hair was in charge.

“Cora,” he said to her, granting her half a bow. “It is good of you to come.”

Adaira stared at him coldly. “Where is your laird?”

“She’s not here. We’ve come to settle this matter with you, since word has spread that you are holding our heir in your dungeons.”

“I won’t settle anything with you,” Adaira said. “Call your laird. She is the one I will speak with.”

The blond smiled. His upper teeth were rotten. “Come now, Cora,” he crooned. “This will be a simple exchange, one that we can do without bloodshed.”

She was silent. From the corner of her eye, she watched as Jack knelt with Mirin and Frae in the corner.

“Your brother is intent on seeing you home safely,” the Breccan continued. “If you will release him from the dungeons and follow him into the west, we will bring the three Tamerlaine lasses back to you.”