“Tonight you stand guard over the islands’ oldest mysteries,” Nessa told him with a little smile. “I doubt if the Hidden Tribe will bother you. They are fond of tricks, but they are an ancient people, and their blood flows to the rhythm of the islands, as ours does. That makes them akin to us in such times of trial. Do not fear them. If you see strange lights, or hear songs or cries, look away and think of morning. I hope you are wearing your moon charms.”

Both young men nodded, hands moving instinctively to the leather strips that held these amulets around their necks. Every child on the islands was given a tiny bag of soft leather holding round white pebbles, three or five or seven in number. Moon charms provided infallible protection against the more mischievous local spirits. Even Nessa, priestess as she was, wore such a talisman.

“Then you will surely be safe. Goodbye, now. I’ll see you at low tide tomorrow. Do not call me. I will come out when it’s time.”

The last thing she expected to see as she came down the bank into the women’s place was a girl. The girl was young, perhaps fourteen, with a pleasant, nervous face and wispy fair hair. She wore a long, coarse cape with a little hood, and sturdy boots. She was one of them: one of Somerled’s people. The girl stood helplessly before the cottage as Rona berated her in words she could not understand.

“There’s no point coming in here if you can’t make yourself understood. This is a sacred place, a forbidden place. Your kind are not welcome here. Now be off with you!”

“I only want—my lady wants—I cannot go back unless—” The girl’s voice shook nervously; she twisted her hands together.

“What is this nonsense, don’t you know I can’t make sense of a word you’re saying? Get out of here before I put a hex on you and turn you into a beetle!” Rona’s mouth curved in a ferocious grimace, revealing her gapped and darkened teeth. The girl flinched, but held her ground.

Nessa gave a small, polite cough. “I’ll deal with this, Rona,” she said quietly, coming across to set her bag by the cottage doorway and give the old woman a kiss on the cheek. The dog had slipped away to the tower in the earth, perhaps searching for his mate. There was no sign of Eyvind. It looked as if she’d been right.

“She won’t go when she’s bidden,” Rona grumbled. “Wants something, but can’t tell me what. Must want it badly. It’s a long way to come, and she’s where she shouldn’t be.”

“I’ll talk to her,” Nessa said. “Why don’t you go inside and get warm?”

“You’re welcome to her,” Rona muttered. “Waifs and strays, more trouble than they’re worth, if you ask me. You’ll be wanting a cup of tea, I expect, after that walk. This wind’s enough to freeze the marrow in your bones.” She disappeared inside the cottage.