There was a hissing from below, as if the sea women sought to harry the hound on his way; a sudden scrabbling followed, and then silence. She could not tell where he was. She turned her head, peering back in the dim light. Below her, far below, the moonlight gleamed on white water. Her stomach churned; a wave of dizziness swept over her. On, she must go on, that was the only thing that mattered.

“Guard?” She had spotted him, crouched frozen on the path a short way up from the shore. She could not help him, burdened as she was. Perhaps she could reach the top, put down what she carried and then go back for him. He had been so faithful, so strong; she could not leave him behind. But suppose she fetched him safely up, what then? To reach the settlement in time she must ride, she must steal a horse from somewhere, and if she did that, Guard would not be able to keep up.

Nessa crept on up the path. Behind her, there was now no sound but the sigh of the sea far below, the sleepy calls of gulls on the ledges. She was breathless and her body ached. It had been foolish to forget the importance of eating, for now she was faint and her strength was flagging fast. She could imagine what Rona would have said. Foolish girl! Even a priestess must eat and drink. The mind can’t help you if you don’t help the body. Here, get this broth into you.

A cloud came over the moon, and the path in front of her vanished. She froze in place. Her burdened hands could not be used to feel the way; all she could do was stand completely still on the ledge, her back pressed against the rock wall. By day, the wide vista of western ocean would make a fine sight before her, crisscrossed by the flights of foraging birds, gull and puffin, tern and guillemot, circling and passing in their dance of survival. Now, in the darkness, she knew only the immensity of the drop before her, the narrow margin of safety, as small as the length of her foot, the yawning black emptiness ready for her fall, her own last flight. Nausea gripped her belly; she fought for control, her fingers curling into the long, soft pelt of the wolfskin. I want so much to live. More than I’ve ever wanted anything before. The moon emerged once more; cool, pale light frosted the cliffs with silver, and made a shining pathway on the dark water. Nessa walked forward, not knowing if the voice she had heard was her own or another’s, borne on some strange wind from the east. “I’m coming,” she whispered. “I’ll be there soon. Wait for me.”