“I’m leaving this morning,” she said as soon as Rona was sitting up on her pallet, steaming cup in hand. “I’ve made your breakfast. And his. You’ll need to take it to him. I have to catch the tide.”

“I see.” Rona sipped at her tea, pebble-gray eyes sharp on her student. “I thought it was tomorrow Kinart was coming.”

“I’ve changed my mind. Mother needs me.”

“And the big fellow doesn’t? Your mother doesn’t know one day from another, that’s what I’ve heard. Why the rush?”

“I thought you didn’t care if he lived or died,” Nessa said in exasperation. “This is hard enough, without you arguing the point.”

“It’s not him I care about, it’s you, child. Why lose a day if you don’t have to? Why rush off home if you don’t want to?”

Nessa pressed her lips together; she would not cry again. She was behaving like a silly girl, and not the priestess she was.

“What do I tell him?” asked Rona quietly.

“Nothing.”

Rona looked at her.

“Tell him I’ve gone home because my mother needs me. It’s the truth. I was foolish to spend so long here, I can’t imagine why I…just say that. I’ll come back and see you as soon as I can, Rona. I hope you will be safe.”

Nessa took up her small pack and put it over her shoulder; already she wore her light cloak and boots. Her outer cloak, the warm one, was still in the cairn, and she was not going to fetch it.

“What happened, Nessa?”

“Nothing. I have to go now or I’ll miss the tide. Farewell; be careful. I’ll be back as soon as I can get away.” Nessa bent to kiss the old woman’s wrinkled cheek. “You might have to…you might have to watch him.” She could not stop herself from blurting this out, and Rona’s eyes narrowed sharply. “I think he might…I’m worried that he may try to—” She could not bring herself to put it into words.

“Oh, yes?” Rona pursed her lips. “But you’re still off and away without another word?”