More than half a turning of the moon after we had set out, we sailed past the reef on which Freyja had foundered and into the sheltered bay at Inis Eala. A crowd stood on the shore to welcome us home. Above the shouts of greeting came one penetrating sound: the shrill yapping of a little dog.

“It sounds as if she missed you,” I said to Felix, who stood beside me at the rail.

I do not think he heard me, for he was staring intently toward the shore. I followed his gaze and saw that among the familiar faces on the jetty was one that had not been there to watch our departure. He stood a little apart, a tall, still figure, his hair deepest auburn, his features gravely handsome. He was clad in an austere gray robe. Ciarán. He was already here. Time after time, in this testing summer, I had longed for his wise advice. Now I felt something akin to despair.

“That’s Ciarán, I take it?” Felix sounded less than delighted.

I nodded.

“Felix,” said Gareth, coming up on Felix’s other side. “That was a mission to test the most adventurous of men. Scholar you may be, but in courage and tenacity you surpass the most peerless of warriors. And without you, Sibeal, this could not have been achieved.”

I was hardly listening. The gap between Liadan and the jetty narrowed as they edged her in under oars. There was Snake, catching one rope, and Niall ready for the other. And Ciarán’s mulberry eyes in his pale, solemn face, watching me. I managed an awkward, jerky nod of greeting, and he favored me with one of his rare smiles. Fang was on the very edge of the jetty, making more noise than everyone else put together.

“I don’t see Clodagh.” Cathal was beside me now, scanning the faces.

He was right. Evan was there, and Muirrin. Biddy stood beside them, beaming and waving both arms to Gull. Among the women were Flidais and Suanach, Alba and Brenna. Johnny was helping Niall secure the second rope so we could step across from deck to jetty. He looked up at Gareth and smiled, and I saw not only relief and love in it, but also an apology. Leading the mission had tested Gareth hard, and the marks of it showed on his face.

Cathal was first off the boat, and heading over to Evan and Muirrin before I so much as moved. There was a brief interchange, then Cathal was off up the track at a run, with Muirrin following at a more sedate pace.

Felix offered me his hand as I jumped over to the jetty. Ciarán was there to catch me. We looked at each other. My mentor put his hands on my shoulders and bent to bestow a fatherly kiss on my brow.

“You’re safe,” he said.

Felix was beside me now.