“I’ll have to ask Uncle Engus’s permission,” Nessa told her. “And my mother’s.”

The old woman smiled. “You’re the youngest of three, aren’t you? Engus doesn’t need you to wed and breed. And your uncle’s no fool, for all he’s a man. He knows the importance of the ancestors. He understands the need for the rituals to be performed properly, after I’m gone. Tell him what I’ve said. He will let you come and learn.”

Nessa nodded. “I’d better go now,” she said. “The tide’s on the turn, and Kinart will be looking for me.”

“Tomorrow,” said Rona gravely. “Your cousin must learn to fish alone now.”

That day had been her turning point, Nessa thought, as she picked her way across the narrow path of tumbled stones to the safety of the Whaleback on a fine, gusty spring day. If she had not run without caution into the dunes all those years ago, she might by now have been betrothed to some chieftain of the Caitt: married, even. Uncle Engus was cautiously negotiating good matches for her sisters. But she’d escaped that, thanks to Rona. Her path would be different. For ten years now, she had learned what the wise woman had to teach; for ten years she had practiced and perfected the rituals of sun and moon, earth and ocean. She had grown up in the knowledge of things seen and unseen, in the reverence and understanding of the old ways. These patterns were eternal; without them, the Folk could not survive. Soon she would leave the Whaleback and King Engus’s household, and dwell alone in the place of the mysteries, as Rona did. Folk would see her from time to time, for on certain days of the year, the women of the island gathered to reverence the earth and the moon, and on other days, the men acknowledged the life-giving force of the sun, the power of the ocean. It would be her part, in time, to make sure these rituals were conducted properly. When that happened, she would become like Rona herself, a being regarded as not quite real, poised between flesh and spirit, woman and wraith. That would be strange indeed.

Nessa came up the bank to the level, grassy ground of the settlement. The household was much reduced in numbers, for Uncle Engus had gone away with many of his men. There had been a report of strange vessels sailing into Silver Bay, and folk with hair the color of ripe barley coming ashore armed with many weapons. Engus had taken a party of warriors and traveled south. Perhaps the unexpected arrivals hailed from the land of the Caitt, and would demand some token of fealty. Engus was used to that, since it happened every few years. What one did, Nessa had learned, was to give a few gifts and pass a few compliments, and they’d go away again thinking you’d agreed to something. Most likely this was the same business again. Yet the description of the strangers’ ships did not match anything seen before in these waters. Engus would surely have a tale to tell on his return.