‘As it happens,’ Blackthorn said, studying the cup in her hands, ‘the Island men appear to be allies rather than enemies. But this could have led to disaster, Cara. It could have been the end for me and for Grim if that document had got into the wrong hands. As it is, it seems there is no lasting harm done, though this has put me in a very awkward position with Prince Oran. What I cannot forgive is your betrayal of my trust.’

It was too much. She was supposed to be a friend. She had been a friend. And she was wrong to accuse Cara, quite wrong! All she’d done was tell those men Blackthorn had been writing her own notes, and she’d tried hard not to do even that. Besides, Blackthorn had never actually said her document was secret. And Cara had always looked away when she hid it.

Blackthorn had her eyes on Cara again. She made her own gesture, as if she were writing. Ah. The wax tablet. When a person couldn’t speak, they could always write. And, fortunately, both tablet and stylus were here in their quarters.

Cara fetched them and wrote: I did not betray a secret. I told Ségán you’d been making notes, but only when he pressed me for answers. I never said where they were or what they were. I didn’t know that myself. Please don’t be angry. It makes my chest hurt. It makes my words go away.

For a long while, then, Mistress Blackthorn sat staring into the flames or studying her cup as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world. Cara sat too, thinking how often she had got things wrong. Why couldn’t she do something good, like discovering the heartwood house story hidden away in some obscure place? Then Mistress Blackthorn would tell her how clever she was, how good at solving puzzles.

‘Tell me what happened, Cara,’ Blackthorn said now, sounding tired and sad. ‘I’m not angry anymore. I didn’t mean to scare you. I believe I’ve misjudged you and if that is so I’m sorry. Take it slowly and don’t leave anything out. If you need to write, write.’

Cara tried to speak. She still couldn’t get the words out. But she didn’t want to write this, she needed to say it out loud. She pointed to her cup, which was still half-full.

‘A good idea,’ said Mistress Blackthorn. ‘Let’s have this first, then talk. Oh, I have something to show you. I went up to Wolf Glen today. Had a word with Grim.’ Her face softened as she said this; thinking of him changed her. ‘And with your father.’

‘Oh! How is Father? Is he well?’ Cara spoke aloud without even thinking.