“A shadow,” Jack replied. “But I couldn’t discern what it was. Is Frae . . . ?” His voice trailed off.

“She’s in bed,” Mirin replied, but she exchanged a worried look with Jack.

They quietly walked into the main bedchamber. Mirin’s candle cast a ring of faint light into the room, gilding the tangles of Frae’s auburn hair as she slept.

Jack felt a pinch of relief and returned to the threshold. Mirin followed, long enough to whisper to him, “It must have been the wind.”

“Yes,” he said, but the doubt left a sour taste in his mouth. “Good-night, Mum.”

“Good-night, Jack,” Mirin said, shutting the door.

Jack climbed into his childhood bed. The blanket wrinkled beneath him. He forgot about Frae’s flowers until he heard them crinkle by his ear. He took them gently in his hand and closed his eyes, trying to convince himself that the night was serene, peaceful. But there was something else, lurking at the edges. Something sinister, waiting to rise.

He couldn’t sleep when he thought of it.

A spirit had come for his sister.

Chapter 5

Jack was up at dawn, anxious to locate Torin and tell the captain about the strange rattle at the shutters. He had every intention of sneaking away from Mirin’s croft before she woke, but it seemed his mother anticipated his attempt to do so. She was waiting for him in the common room, working at her loom, a pot of oats bubbling over the fire.

“Will you join us for breakfast?” she asked, keeping her focus on her weaving.

Jack hesitated. He was about to utter an excuse when the front door opened and in walked Frae with a burst of cold morning air. A basket of eggs hung on her arm, and she brightened at the sight of him.

“Good morning,” his sister said, and then she seemed to grow shy. She walked to the table and fidgeted with the teacups, trying her best not to look at him.

Jack couldn’t slip away. Not with Frae’s demure gaze and Mirin’s rigid stance, as if they both expected him to bolt and were furiously hoping he would remain.

He sat at the table and watched Frae’s smile widen.

“I made you some tea,” she said. Then she whispered, “You do like tea, don’t you?”

“I do,” Jack replied.