I do not remember their second visit as well as the first. It was on the eve of the winter solstice, Meán Geimhridh. It was my fourteenth birthday. Some of it, I suppose, was blotted out by the things that happened afterward. I remember that Finbar arrived a little later than the others, as on the first visit. I remember the look in his eyes, a hint of wildness that he could not quite keep hidden from me.

There was news. Conor could tell I craved it, but he passed it on with some reluctance.

“The child was born at Samhain,” he said. “A boy. They have called him Ciarán.”

Liam threw a stick on the fire. “It’s a good strong name,” he said grudgingly.

I held up my hands in the flickering light. It was freezing cold, but still we sat outside, for the small blaze gave a warmth that was cheering to the heart as well as comforting to the bones. Here we could make some semblance of our old circle, pretend some likeness of our old unity.

I held up the five fingers of one hand, and two of the other. My brothers understood; their eyes also spoke their pain at the sight of my twisted hands.

“Yes, Sorcha,” said Conor. “He is the seventh son of a seventh son. That must be respected.”

“Respected?” spat Diarmid furiously. “Hardly. He is her child, the spawn of pure evil. He should be destroyed, along with the sorceress.”

The others looked at him, and there was a short silence.

“He’s our brother,” observed Padriac after a while.

“He is our father’s son,” said Liam, agreeing, “and he is innocent of the ill done to us. Cannot we hope that his birth may change things for the better?”

Nobody answered him. Father had always made it clear that he intended Liam, as his eldest son, to inherit Sevenwaters. Although any man of Colum’s line could challenge this decision and make a claim of his own, for that was the law, this had not seemed at all likely. Until now. And who was to say our father might not prefer the son his new wife had borne him?

It seemed Conor had worse news for Liam, for he took his elder brother away from our group. They stood talking earnestly for some time, just out of earshot. After a while Conor came back, but Liam remained staring out into the dark, and the bleak grayness of his expression reminded me of our father.

“What’s wrong with him?” asked Cormack not very tactfully.

Conor gave his twin a sidelong glance. “Woman trouble.”

“You mean Eilis? She’s not dead?”

Conor shook his head. “Oh, no. She recovered well enough from the poisoning, and Seamus has guarded her fiercely since. He has taken care she makes no more visits to Sevenwaters. No need for it, really, since Colum’s marriageable sons have conveniently disappeared for parts unknown. No, Eilis is well. Blooming in fact, and ready for marriage. Her father has promised her to Eamonn of the Marshes. If he can’t secure his eastern border by wedding her to one of us, then he may as well go for the northern.”