Torin was quiet, soaking in her story. He knew of the curse. It was why the Breccans had no resources come winter, and why so many Tamerlaines required the medical attention of his wife.

He glanced at the woman, wondering how many questions he could ask before her voice fully faded.

“Do the spirits of the isle come here to visit you then?” he asked.

“Occasionally. When one is in need.”

“You didn’t happen to see one with two young lasses, did you?”

“What would a spirit want with a mortal bairn?” she countered.

Torin felt his impatience rise. “Is there a way to call the spirits? To make them manifest?”

“If there is,” the woman said, her words almost undecipherable, “I don’t know it, captain.”

He sensed her time had ended; her voice was spent. He wanted to ask her more about the spirits, but he would have to do it another time, when her voice had been replenished.

How will I find my way back to this place? he wondered, knowing this glen was cursed to shift and change. He studied the figurine of Lady Whin once more. Perhaps it could be a guide to him. It was uncanny how much it reminded him of Sidra.

“May I keep this?” he asked.

The woman gave him a curt nod, her attention focusing on her work, as though he were no longer present.

Torin left the bothy, the door closing behind him on its own. He tucked the figurine into his pocket, thinking Maisie would love it, and began to walk up the river before he paused, listening as the water’s babble changed.

Torin glanced over his shoulder and froze. It was just as he had feared.

The river had altered its course by a handbreadth, and the timeless woman’s bothy was nowhere to be seen.

Torin had just emerged from the glen and was heading north when he caught sight of Roban, sprinting toward him through the heather.

Torin knew something was wrong. He felt a pit in his stomach as he ran to meet the young guard.

“What is it, Roban?” Torin asked. But he already knew the answer.

He saw the sweat dripping from Roban’s brow, the sheen of panic in his eyes. His worn edges from searching day after day, night after night, with nothing to show for it.

“I’m afraid it’s happened again, captain,” the boy panted. “Another lass has vanished.”

Chapter 6