“Mm.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, handing him a filled bowl.

“Sorry about the food, or . . . ?”

“My cooking’s not that bad. I mean sorry for lying to you. Again.”

“Way I see it,” said Grim, blowing on a steaming spoonful, “it’s better to care too much, like you do, and make mistakes, than shut your ears and eyes and pretend the bad things in the world aren’t there. Big job, though. Bigger than I thought.”

“What is?”

“Keeping you safe.”

We ate in silence for a while. The supper was a little odd, but we were hungry and cold enough to eat every last spoonful.

“Good meal,” said Grim, wiping out his bowl with his finger. “About St. Olcan’s. Was that to get me out of your way? Wondered why you were so keen to help them. Monks and all.”

Only the truth would do, though it shamed me to say it. “I did plan things hoping you’d be busy up there when I went to the tower, because I thought I might have to do something you wouldn’t want me to do. And yes, I intended that Flannan and I would be gone before you got back on Midsummer Eve. A big strategic error. No need to point that out.”

“Funny part is,” he said, “it turned out to be a good thing. Me going up to St. Olcan’s. A really good thing. And not just me fixing their roof for them. Even though I was so scared of going in, the first time, that it made me sick. Learned a bit up there. Wasn’t expecting that.”

I didn’t ask about the mysterious Brother Conall, and he didn’t offer the story.

“Question for you,” Grim said.

“Mm?”

“Can anyone learn their letters? Reading and writing?”

This was a surprise. “Someone like you, you mean?” I ventured.

“Mm-hm.” He was staring into the fire, avoiding my eye.

“That depends on who’s doing the teaching,” I said. “I was planning on starting some work with Emer when we get home. If she’s going to be a healer she’ll need to be able to keep her own notebook, at the very least. Read labels, make her own labels. I don’t see why you shouldn’t learn with her. That’s if we do stay in Winterfalls.”

He looked up then. Nodded. Gave me the sweetest of smiles. “Good,” he said. “Should get these clothes dried out, hmm?”

We built the fire up, draped various items around it and settled again. It was nearly dark, or as dark as it got so close to midsummer. And beyond the glow of the flames, as cold as the grave. Grim checked the horses again. When he got back I handed him the flask of Father Tomas’s special mead.

“I was going to save it until we got home. But I think tonight calls for it. It will put some warmth in the bones.”

The mead was indeed very fine; far better than anything I’d ever brewed. We passed the flask from one to the other until a goodly amount of it was gone. Then we settled to sleep. All being well, by the day after tomorrow we would be back at Cahercorcan. It felt as if we’d been in another world.