Nessa knew little of this at the time, for she lay shivering and burning, trapped in feverish visions. She dreamed she was bound up in tight ropes and held near flames; she dreamed she was being chased by slavering monsters, and running through quicksand. She dreamed of skulls with empty eyes, dead husks whose features she recognized. She thought her mother was there, and then gone. The serving girl looked after her a while, and then she, too, was gone, and the only one around was Brother Tadhg, which was odd, because he had gone home. He was sponging her face with a cloth and making her drink water, but she didn’t want to, she was tired, she was so tired…

She was sick for a long time, and when at last her head came back to itself, the autumn was almost gone. She tried to get out of bed, but her legs gave way under her and she fell in a heap on the floor. There was nobody else in the girls’ quarters, nobody at all. And it was quiet: so quiet that for a moment of sheer terror she wondered if she were the only one left, of all of them. Then Tadhg came back and sat her on the bed, blanket-swathed, and made her drink soup. He would not talk to her until she had finished it all. Then, because Nessa refused to let him go without telling her what had happened, he gave her the truth. The sickness had taken almost half the Folk on the home island, and more than half the household on the Whaleback. They did not know about the other islands yet. The old woman, Rona, had survived, and had been venturing out with potions for the sick. Engus was well, and so was Kinart now. Indeed, Kinart had been quite a hero, helping maintain supplies of food to all the farms, and making a trip across to fetch Tadhg and Ulf. The Christians themselves had not escaped unscathed, for the two local lads who had joined them on Holy Island were both dead now, burned up by the sickness.

The account was as yet incomplete.

“My mother?” whispered Nessa.

A shadow passed over Tadhg’s calm features. “She has been gravely ill, my dear,” he told her gently. “Near death. She is past the worst now, but much weakened. When you are stronger, I will take you to see her.”

There was another silence. Nessa found that this time she did not have the will to ask. She closed her eyes, feeling slow tears begin to well as Tadhg’s quiet voice continued its litany of loss.

“Your sisters…your two sisters are both gone, Nessa. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry that I must bring you this terrible news. Sometimes God wills it thus; he gathers the innocent and the good to be with him, to pass straight to that heavenly realm where all is light and grace. Now you feel only pain; you cannot see beyond the darkness of your own grief. In time, you will understand that they are in a better place, a place where there is no sadness.”