“Ready, Sibeal?” Gull was beside me, his bundle under one arm. A larger bag containing his healer’s items was already stowed in the hold. Behind him stood Biddy, a well-controlled smile on her face.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I said. “But I’ll wait until everyone’s on board. Johnny wants me to say a prayer for a safe journey.”

“Here, I’ll take your bag.”

“I will.” There was Felix, back straight, head high, pale as a winter morning. He sounded as if he was speaking through clenched teeth. I felt his terror deep in my bones. The wave coming . . . Paul’s eyes widening . . . a great rumbling sound like cart wheels . . . It was the first time he had set foot on a boat since the shipwreck. In all of Gull’s rigorous training, they had not prepared for this.

“Thank you,” I said, passing him the bag. “One step at a time. And remember, Paul is right beside you.”

I watched them board, all of them. When Knut walked past her, his face stony, his fingers nervously twisting his amulet on its cord, Svala cringed. The light left her eyes. A familiar shuttered look came over her features. Then Gareth, who was already on board, reached out a hand to help her down onto the deck. She ignored him, stepping over lightly on her own.

I watched the faces of those left behind, wives and lovers, children, parents, comrades. The loss would indeed be great if our expedition came to grief. How hard it must be for a woman to live in a place like this, where every season might bring another farewell. How hard to be a warrior, torn between the heart-stirring mission and the love of home and family.

“Sibeal?” Clodagh was beside me, holding out another bag. “I’ve packed this for Svala. It has practical items, the things she probably wouldn’t think of for herself.” Her freckles were stark against the white skin; her eyes were pink-rimmed. Like Biddy, she wore a smile.

“Thank you.” I was looking around for Cathal when something crashed into my legs, almost toppling me. Fang bolted along the jetty, coming to a sudden halt at the spot where Felix had just stepped over onto the boat. The dog’s voice arose, silencing all others with its shrill howl of woe. Clodagh’s smile faded, and so did Biddy’s.

“Morrigan’s britches, what’s got into you?” Snake strode forward; the crowd parted for him. He reached to pick up the little dog, but the anguished crying went on. Fang was in a frenzy, trying to do everything at once: bite Snake’s hand, leap off the jetty onto the boat, scream her confusion to the world.