“I must speak to Rona first. I am not here for you, but to enact a ritual, a dark and secret observance. It must be done tonight, in the tower: in the chamber below, the hidden place deep under the earth. And tomorrow I must go home again.”

His face altered as if she had hit him. He said nothing.

“What did you say to him?” asked Rona sharply. “No need to be cruel. The big fellow’s been trying hard while you were gone. Cleaned himself up, made himself useful, and putting himself together again as best he can. He’s been waiting for you a long time, lass. You could manage a kind word.”

“I thought he was just a nuisance to you,” Nessa retorted, amazed. “A big man with a big axe, who can’t even talk properly. Isn’t that what you said?”

“Times change,” Rona muttered, suddenly busy picking up platters and spoons and stacking them to be cleaned. “You forget how long you’ve been away. There’s a hint of spring in the air, and spring may not be good this year. No doubt you can tell us more. The big fellow still can’t speak our tongue, but we’ve managed well enough between us. Yes, he’s a warrior; that may never change. But there’s a great kindness in him, Nessa. It’s easier to see with each day that passes. Kindness and strength, for all the trembling and the dark visions that haunt him. I never thought I’d say this, but perhaps a warrior’s what we need, you and I.”

“He is Somerled’s friend. And Somerled has declared ownership of the islands. He wants to take my uncle’s place.”

“What are you saying?” Eyvind put in, frowning. “What about…what about Somerled?” He seemed to speak this name with some reluctance.

“Why are you here now, lass?” Rona’s eyes were searching, her mouth grim.

“For a Calling.”

“I thought as much. Sure you can do it? It’s Engus wants guidance, I suppose.”

“Somerled has given him only until the first day of spring to decide. The choice is, surrender everything or be wiped out. My uncle says he will never give up. I’m scared, Rona. This could be the end of the Folk. And…”

“And what?” asked Rona sharply.

“Nessa?” Eyvind, too, was watching closely from where he sat by the hearth, hands clasped together to keep them still. “Please tell me what you are saying. You look frightened. What is it?”