“But sometime soon?”

She felt her cheeks flush. “Maybe.”

“Then you should not be here with me, alone.”

“I did not know you would be here when I climbed the tower,” Lily said, quite reasonably, she thought. “And how can I go away and leave you when I cannot be sure you can get home safely on your own? Given the choice, my father would surely want me to take good care of a stranger in difficulty rather than run away in order to preserve my reputation. Just tell me where you live, and I can at least get word to your family.”

“No!”

His answer was too forceful, too full of terror for this to be a simple case of a young man who had taken more strong drink than was good for him, and been led astray. “You’re scared of something,” Lily said quietly. “Is that why you’re in here? Are you hiding?”

“I can’t tell you.” Ash wrapped his arms around his drawn-up knees. “It’s safer if you know nothing. Safer if you just go. I want you to go, Lily. Please, just do as I ask.” His voice was rich with feeling. He looked at her as if she were the last good thing in his world. She knew that, in his heart, he did not want her to leave him. But she had not entirely lost sight of reality. When rest time was over, her handmaid would come looking for her. If she could not be found, Muiríol would tell her mother, and her secret expeditions would be over. If she wanted to see Ash again—and she did, oh, so much—she must leave him now.

“Farewell, then,” she said, rising to her feet. “I hope you will soon be recovered.” It sounded stilted and formal, and in no way conveyed the feelings in her heart. “I wish you would let me help.”

“You cannot help,” said Ash. “But I will treasure the memory of our meeting; I will hold it close when you are gone. Good-bye, Lily.”

She made her way down the stair with her thoughts in turmoil; she had hardly a word for the wee boatman as he ferried her over from the island. She ran all the way home, and was just in time to clamber up the tree and in her window before Muiríol came to wake her from her nap. All through supper time and afterward, she could think of nothing but Ash: his pale skin, his dark, dark hair, his sorrowful eyes. His sweet words and the way he had looked at her.

Tomorrow, she resolved, when it was night and she was at long last alone again. Tomorrow I will take salves and soft cloths and some proper food and drink for him. Tomorrow I will find out who he is and why he is in the tower. Tomorrow . . .

7

Blackthorn