They were indeed good at it. The ride to Longwater took us back through Winterfalls settlement, where we left Cara’s tired horse at the stables behind the brewery and borrowed two more mounts. Ripple shared Cionnaola’s horse; the tall warrior with his long twists of hair seemed a good match for the leggy grey hound, who rode draped across the saddle in front of him. I borrowed a rope leash, stowing it in my saddlebag. Cúan led the spare horse.

In Longwater folk came out to ask questions, for which we had little time. We learned that the local workers who had been helping Grim with the building had been told to take the day off. No reason had been given. I spotted the farmer’s son, Fedach, at the back of the group; he gazed only at Cara. She was wound up tight, her face pinched and pale, her shoulders hunched as she rode. But when Fedach flashed her a grin, she managed a watery smile in return. A good boy, that one. He would be beneath consideration as a future husband for Tóla’s daughter. But for Bardán’s daughter, the son of a successful horse breeder would be an excellent match. I found myself hoping for them; hoping they would be blessed with time and peace to learn what it was they truly wanted.

Several of the Longwater men offered to come with us – we had told them only that there might be some kind of trouble up at Wolf Glen – but Cionnaola said no. We rode on. Past the path that led to Bardán’s old cottage, where baby Brígh had been born. On through the woods. The crow was still with us, close but never too close, keeping watch over Cara. Maybe it had appointed itself some sort of guardian. Maybe it was an Otherworld creature. In the company of the two men I did not ask her. I limited my conversation to, ‘Are you all right?’ to which she replied ‘Yes’, though she wasn’t, of course. Who would be? As for me, my belly was a churning mess, my body was all jangling nerves, and my thoughts were racing as fast as my heart. When we got there, I could not expect Cionnaola and Cúan to take the lead. I would have to do it. What to say? How to start? And in the background, Mathuin. I’d had the opportunity and I’d let it go. If my absence led to a finding of innocent, I would never forgive myself.

We were not yet in sight of Tóla’s house when the increasingly restless Ripple made a sudden leap from the horse’s back, landed in a tumble of limbs, collected herself, then charged ahead, baying.

‘Ripple!’ I yelled, wishing I had Grim’s deep voice. ‘Stop!’