“You over there,” the witch said to Uther. He went and sat down in his own stall and the witch kneeled beside Caswyn.

“He’s lost blood.”

Aidan crouched across from her. “What do you need from us?”

“Fresh water, clean cloth, and privacy. Having you two hovering over me makes me uncomfortable.”

Aidan could understand that. Especially the way Brannie was glowering.

“Understood.” He nodded at her. “Name’s Aidan. This is Branwen.”

“I’m Esmerelda.”

“Can we call you Ezzie?” Brannie asked.

“No.”

“We’ll get the water and cloth for you,” Aidan said quickly, rising.

He walked out, pushing Brannie in front, closing the double doors behind them.

“Why are you acting like I did something wrong?” Brannie asked.

“You were glaring at her.”

“I glare at everyone.”

“No, you don’t. But when you’re worried . . .” He smiled. “I’ll be right back.”

Aidan tracked down a helpful servant and asked for what he needed. While he waited, he peeked inside the castle to make sure Keita was doing all right. She was talking to the family, regaling them with stories of the supposed “attack” they’d suffered. There were tears, dramatic reenactments. It was quite . . . entertaining.

Aidan returned to the stables with the servant and all that Esmerelda needed. Once the supplies were delivered, he and the servant went to Brannie. The servant proceeded to lay out food for them. Bread and cheese, meat and ale.

As soon as they were alone, Aidan dropped onto the straw. “I’m exhausted,” he complained.

“Going down with a mountain takes a lot out of a dragon.” Brannie sat down across from him and grabbed a loaf of bread.

“That didn’t happen today, did it?”

“It does feel like it happened days ago, but no. The quake happened just this morning.” She tore off a piece of the loaf and handed him the other half. “You think Iz and Éibhear are all right?”

“You mother would have told you if they weren’t.”

“Maybe. Unless she was worried I would have fought even harder to go back.” She sighed, took another bite of her bread. “Too late now, though, huh?”

“Too late.”

“Do you think Ren is dead?”

“I hope not. The Eastlanders are not exactly a forgiving people. If he died on Rhiannon’s territory . . .”

“Yes. I know. My mother made that clear.”

She was quiet after that and they ate mostly in silence. Although not an uncomfortable one. They were both exhausted.

When they’d just finished their food, Esmerelda appeared at the stall opening.

“They’ll sleep. Both of them. The one with the arm—”

“Uther.”

“Yeah. His arm and leg are already starting to heal. His leg wasn’t even that bad. But he should protect that arm for the next day or two, depending on how fast you . . . people heal.”

“And Caswyn?”

“I stopped the bleeding and gave him something to get his strength back. And a few spells to speed up the healing.” She shrugged narrow shoulders. “I’ve done me best.”