“I spent today in prayer and meditation.” I wished I knew whether it was necessary to keep illustrating with gestures; it did feel a little foolish. “I went to a cave, a place of the gods, where wisdom can be sought.”

Footsteps outside and Fang’s familiar yap—Gull was here. “I was told that I must give you a name,” I said. “I’ve chosen the name Ardal, if you agree to that. It means ‘unusual courage.’ We’ll use it only until you can tell us your own name, of course.” I went through the ritual of pointing once more. “My name, Sibeal. Your name, Ardal. For now.”

The door creaked open as I was speaking, and Gull came in with the dog at his heels. “Did you tell him what it means, Sibeal?” he asked.

That surprised me. “I did. Do you think he understands?”

“That’s what you believe, isn’t it? Knut said he was on the ship as a passenger, not crew. The fellow may be more scholar than warrior. Could be a scribe, maybe a cleric of some kind. I think I’ve seen some understanding on his face when you talk. Could be all manner of reasons why he’s not speaking to us, sheer exhaustion being the most likely. I’ll warm up the soup, shall I? Let’s get him fed before we worry about anything else.”

“I’ll do it.” I moved to the fire, wanting a little time to think. I could not forget the look Ardal had turned on me when he woke, as if the sight of me was a gift. It seemed quite wrong; and yet it had touched me, filling my heart with warmth. A strange day indeed: Finbar’s shade in the water, Svala with her fish and now this.

“This island is an odd place, Gull,” I said, stirring the little pot.

“Inis Eala changes folk.” He was hanging his cloak on a peg, his back to me. “Brings out the truth in them for better or worse. For some it’s quick. For some it takes far longer.” He removed his outdoor boots and set them at the foot of his own pallet. “You all right, Sibeal?”

“Me?”

“Don’t sound so surprised. You’ve only been here a couple of days, and look at everything that’s happened. Wasn’t this supposed to be a time of rest for you, this summer on the island?”

“Well, yes.” My sisters had been talking, evidently. “But if there’s work for me to do, I should do it. Anything from conducting a burial rite to helping look after a sick man.”

“And rescuing folk from the sea.” There was kindness in Gull’s deep voice. “How old are you, sixteen?”