Hard to breathe in here. Head’s muzzy, hurting too. Don’t go to sleep, Grim. Wait. Only wait. Can’t hear anything from up there. If folk were looking for us, would we hear them? They can’t be going to leave us down here. Would they do that? Leave us and walk away?

Shit. Maybe they would. Not much of a way to die. More I think about it, the harder it is to breathe. Is Bardán still breathing? I give a sort of grunt, which is the only sound I can make with the gag on, and he grunts back at me. Funny, how happy that makes me. Not alone. I’m not alone.

I’m thinking about hope. Thinking it’s like a candle. New and bright at first, strong and steady. Then the draught creeps in, and the candle burns down, and it’s not so strong anymore. Flickering. Wavering. Struggling. Holding on as long as it can. Or hope’s like a song. A lullaby you’d sing to a new baby. None shall harm this child of mine. A promise you’ll keep your child safe. Or it’s like reaching out for someone’s hand, holding it in yours. It’s seeing the beauty in things. A thrush singing. Children splashing in a stream. A dog’s faithful eyes. Blackthorn’s red hair. Her own flame, that she carried through the living hell of Mathuin’s lockup. That’s hope. For Bardán here, I’m guessing hope is his daughter. Now he knows, that’ll get him through.

Holy Mother of God! I hear Ripple. Ripple barking up top, loud enough so we can hear it down under in the black. Means she went where I told her to and help’s come. If it was them, Tóla and Gormán, they’d have shut that noise up fast. Wolves, the two of them. No mercy. But she’s still barking, and now someone’s tramping around up there. The trapdoor creaks open, and Ripple’s voice is joy and pride and hope all rolled into one.

Chapter Forty-three: Cara

43

~Cara~

They brought the men out from the root cellar. There was blood all down Grim’s face from a cut on his head. Bardán was pale as a ghost and shaking. And her father – Tóla – was still telling lies. The two of them had been locked in to cool off, he said, because Bardán had flung wild accusations at him and physically attacked him, and Grim had got involved as well. They would have been let out in due course, when they’d had time to learn their lesson. As for the rest of it, it was a fanciful story with no substance at all. He told Cara, again, that her rightful place was with him, her father, at Wolf Glen. And none of it was anyone else’s business.