“You’d have no hope of keeping it secret anyway,” Gull said with a grimace. He stood with arms folded as Evan and Kalev remade the bed with clean blankets taken from a storage chest. I thought I saw Clodagh’s touch in the neatly folded supply. “We’ll have to snatch time when we can. Johnny will only sanction this if it doesn’t interfere with anyone’s regular work.”

“I’ll help in here,” I offered. “I can’t do the heavy work, but I can give Ardal his meals and keep an eye on him while you’re busy during the day, Gull.”

“Thank you, Sibeal.” Gull smiled at me. “Your visit to Inis Eala is hardly the rest Johnny tells me it was intended to be.”

“I never asked for a rest,” I said. “I’m very happy to help.”

“Better get Ardal back to bed,” Evan said when the pallet was freshly made up. “Then we’ll leave you to it, Father. My belly’s rumbling.”

Gull glanced across to Ardal, seated with the fire’s glow warming his hollow features and the little dog curled peacefully on his knee. “Leave him for now,” he said. “Sibeal and I will manage.”

“I don’t think—”

“Go on, Evan. The man’s barely been out of his bed since he got here. You and Kalev take those blankets down to Biddy. Ardal’s only got to stagger a few steps across the chamber. We’ll cope.”

Evan’s gaze passed over us: a man with damaged hands, a slight girl of sixteen. “Good night, then,” he said.

“Good night, Sibeal, Gull,” said Kalev, and the two of them went out.

“Well, then,” said Gull. “You’d best eat something, Ardal. Sibeal can help you. And then we might have a tale. Firelight’s best for tales. Kalev was saying you entertained them down there with the story of Finn and the Grey Man, Sibeal.”

“That’s right.”

“That probably makes it my turn now. Have a think about what you’d like to hear.”

I filled a bowl with broth and, after a moment’s hesitation, passed the spoon to Ardal. “I’ll hold the bowl,” I said. “See if you can feed yourself.”

As each mouthful made its way from vessel to lips, the spoon shaking with some violence in Ardal’s hand, I stood still and quiet by him. I saw how much it hurt him to swallow; I knew how desperately he was working not to fail this simple challenge.

“You’re doing well, Ardal,” I said when he was nearly finished. “Feeding yourself may seem a little thing, something a child could do. But it’s not; it’s another step toward being yourself again. It takes not only bravery, but strength and hope. Perhaps you’ll start to remember soon.”