“Hannah has them. My toes help me balance.” She stood tall, waiting for him to order her down so she could deny him. But instead, he held his arms out from his sides so that the people and animals would give them a wide berth as they flowed around them. A glance behind her showed Joshua doing the same, a wide smile on his face. No one came near to nudging Gilla.

“I have the puss.” Cain’s youngest brother strode up to them with Boo against his chest. Despite the wild look in the kitten’s eyes, she didn’t scratch at him.

“I will take her,” Ella said, reaching for her.

“Nay! Thoir an aire!” someone called from closer to the fires a mere heartbeat before a horse neighed loudly, rearing up to paw the air. People scattered, abandoning their horses to leap out of its way. The young stallion, eyes wild and ears flattened back, dropped into a charge—right toward Ella.

…

Cain reached up for Ella’s bare ankles. Before he could pull her down, she dropped low, almost sitting upon his hands. Bàs pulled the kitten back in to him and grabbed Hannah to the side.

“Siuthad!” Ella yelled, yanking the lead tied to her horse’s halter wide to the right. Without a bit, it pulled the mare’s face to the side, making the horse snort. Ella’s legs and shifting of weight turned the horse with precision, and the tail lashed Cain in the face as it tore off into the night.

“Daingead!” Cain swore as he, too, jumped out of the way of the wild young stallion, his gaze snapping to Hannah’s horse. He threw his leg up over the mare, hoisting himself into place. The lead rope was useless, and he unhooked it. The horse wasn’t as well trained as Seraph, but the four brothers made certain that each Sinclair horse knew basic signals without using a bit. Grabbing onto a clump of coarse mane, Cain pressed his heels into the horse’s sides and guided her with his knees.

Reaching the edge of the crowd, he scanned the darkness in the direction Ella had flown. The firelight infiltrated the shadows just enough to show her headed toward the cliff that held Girnigoe out of the sea, a sheer drop to the rocks below.

“Falbh!” he yelled, tapping his heels into the horse’s flanks, and she took off. “Ella! Stop!” Could she hear him over the wind shooting up the cliff?

He leaned over the horse’s neck. “Falbh, falbh, falbh!” Would Ella see the edge before it was too late to stop? A vision of her and her horse flying off into emptiness, the wind whipping her glorious hair as she hurtled screaming to the brutal rocks below, clogged his view for a moment. He shook his head. “Ella, the cliff!” he yelled with the strength of a battle cry.