“Yes, I can arrange that for you,” Jack said after only a moment of doubt. In the back of his mind, he thought of his mother’s dirk with its silver hilt, and how she kept it sheathed at her side, although Jack had never once seen her use it. But he knew the dagger was enchanted; the glamour was evident when one didn’t look directly upon the weapon. It cast a slight haze, as though firelight had been hammered into the steel.

There was no telling how much his mother had paid Una Carlow to forge it for her. Or how much Una had, in turn, suffered for rendering the blade.

He held out his hand. The fisherman shook it.

“Very well,” the man said. “We’ll leave at daybreak.” He went to shut the door again, but Jack refused to remove his foot.

“We must go now,” he said. “While it’s dark. This is the safest time to make the crossing.”

The fisherman’s eyes bugged. “Are you daft? I wouldn’t cross those waters at night if you paid me a hundred enchanted dirks!”

“You must trust me on this,” Jack answered. “Ravens may carry messages to the lairds by day, and the trade cog may glide on the first of the season, but the best time to cross is at night, when the ocean reflects the moon and the stars.”

When the spirits of the water are easily appeased, Jack added inwardly.

The fisherman gaped. Jack waited—he would stand here all night and all of the next day if he had to—and the fisherman must have sensed it. He relented.

“Very well. For two Cadence dirks, I will carry you across the water tonight. Meet me by my boat in a few minutes. It’s that one, in the berth on the far right.”

Jack glanced over his shoulder to look at the darkened quay. Weak moonlight gleamed on the hulls and masts, and he found the fisherman’s boat, a modest vessel that had once been his father’s. The very boat that had originally carried Jack in his first crossing.

He stepped down the stoop, and the door latched behind him. He momentarily wondered if the fisherman was fooling him, agreeing to simply get Jack off his porch, but Jack walked briskly to the quay in good faith, the wind nearly pushing him down as he strode over the damp road.

He lifted his eyes to the darkness. There was a wavering trail of celestial light on the ocean, the silver path the fisherman needed to follow to reach Cadence. A sickle moon hung in the sky like a smile, surrounded by freckles of stars. It would have been ideal if the moon was full, but Jack couldn’t afford to wait for it to wax.

He didn’t know why his laird had summoned him home, but he sensed it wasn’t for a joyous reunion.