Hectar laughed. “And you think you can stop us? You’re not even armed.”
Tam’s eyes were unreadable as his gaze met Kaetha’s.
“Bind her hands, lass,” said Hectar.
The rope scratched at her skin as the lass bound her wrists. Donnan ran at them, pulling Glenna away, only to be flung to the ground by Hectar, his stomach pummelled by his heavy boot.
“She’s coming with us,” Hectar snarled.
A low growl rumbled and Hectar staggered backwards, dropping his axe as he tripped. Kaetha dived for it, holding it out with her bound hands.
Glenna’s eyes widened when she saw Tam the wolf but she looked more afraid of her father’s axe. Glenna’s blade sliced the air. Kaetha dodged, the glint of metal an inch from her face. Axe shaking, she deflected the next blow. Then pain exploded in her right hand and she screamed, the axe tumbling out of her grasp. Glenna abandoned her hammer and lunged, grinning, driving her knife straight at her.
A blur of grey streaked in front of Kaetha, knocking her backwards. Glenna screamed from beneath a furry bulk of muscle, teeth and claws and something was thrown into the air, landing at Kaetha’s feet. The colour drained from Hectar’s face before he fled through the trees. Glenna to her feet, clutching her arm, blood soaking her clothes. “Pa,” she yelled. “Pa!” But he didn’t call back. Mairi and Donnan’s faces were white as parchment.
“Tam, what have you done?” said Kaetha, though in wolf form, he could not reply. Glenna’s hand lay in the mud at Kaetha’s feet. A thin, blood-flecked finger twitched and Kaetha fought a wave of nausea. She reached out to Glenna. “Let me—”
“G-Get away from me,” said Glenna.
Kaetha ignored her. “You’ll die of bleeding or infection if it’s not cauterized. I don’t like you but I don’t want you to die like that.” Glenna struggled as she tried to pull her over to the fire, blood continuing to flood down her clothes. “Fine.” Kaetha stopped trying to drag her to the fire and, instead, used all her strength to hold out Glenna’s disfigured arm and, with her other hand, she sent a blast of fire over the bleeding flesh. Glenna’s scream ripped through her, a sound that she knew would haunt her dreams.
“See. I can control it sometimes.”
“She will find you,” said Glenna when she had recovered enough from the shock to speak. She tore herself away from Kaetha. “You can count on that.” Then she ran, stumbling, following where her father had gone.
“Who were they talking about?” said Donnan.
“I wish I knew.” Kaetha shook her head. “I can’t believe he left her like that. His own daughter.”
Tam shifted into his human-like form and Mairi grabbed a knife, running over to stand protectively before Donnan and Kaetha.
“It’s alright, Mairi,” said Kaetha. “He won’t hurt us.” But she could see the terror in her stepmother’s eyes as she took in his fierce, scarred face. “Put down the knife, Mairi. The danger’s passed. We’re fine.”
Mairi kept the knife pointed at Tam. “What – is that – thing?”
“You can call him Tam. Tam Wildshore. He’s a Baukan.”
Mairi looked from Kaetha, to Donnan, to Tam. “A Baukan? How are you acquainted with such a creature? And that fire?” Shook her head. “Don’t tell me— Please don’t tell me—” she began, her voice breaking.
“That I have magic?” said Kaetha. “Well I do. But it’s alright Mairi, you don’t have to be—”
“I don’t know what’s alright and what’s not anymore.” Light danced on the blade as it shook in her hand. “What’s dangerous and what’s not. But, Kaetha, this path you’re on,” she shook her head, her chin quivering, “it frightens me. I want you to be safe. You know what can happen to people who use magic. Why are you taking such risks when it could get you killed.”
“But it has the potential to save,” said Kaetha. “I’ve saved Pa before with magic, what if I can again?” She thought of the two of them shielded by fire. “I was scared of my magic once. Whatever you say, I do not intend to be so anymore. Why can’t you just accept me for who I am?”
“I know it’s not your fault you have magic but, please, promise me you won’t use it.” Mairi’s eyes filled with tears. “Please.”
“I can’t. I can’t deny who I am.”
Tam retrieved the hand from the ground, pulling Mairi’s ring from it before tossing the lump of flesh in the fire as if it were a log. Mairi flinched as he approached her, holding out her ring.
Mairi hesitated before taking it. “What do you want with her?” There was a steely threat in the deepened tones of her voice.
“I simply want to accompany you,” said Tam. “I’ve been of help today, perhaps I will be again.”
“But why help us? What’s in it for you?”
“I’m in her debt. I was imprisoned.” Tam turned to Kaetha. “She saved me.”
“It’s true, Mairi,” said Donnan.
“You knew about him?” she said, turning to Donnan. “You trust him?”
Donnan didn’t answer.
“Of course we do,” said Kaetha.
“You don’t understand what you’re doing – what danger . . . Kaetha.” Her last word was a plea, a drop of hope in an ocean of hurt.” She left them then, disappearing into the trees. Kaetha thought she heard her sobbing.
Tam slipped away unnoticed.
Forgetting to be careful of her injury, Kaetha went to twist the cuff of her sleeve, then flinched. “Damn this hand.”
“You could make more of an effort with her,” said Donnan. “She’s finding this hard, you know.”
She laughed bitterly. “Aye, it must be hard having a step-daughter you’re ashamed of.” She looked up at him then. His face was pale, his tired, shadow-rimmed eyes fixed on hers with feverish energy.
“She’s not ashamed of you, Kaetha. She just doesn’t understand you. At times, I’m not sure I do either.”
“You’re saying that about me?”
“You have the chance to have someone in your life who would be like a mother to you.”
“I don’t get chances like that, Donnan. My own mother was persuaded to pretend I wasn’t hers. My father, who left her, didn’t want me to come to Braddon in the first place. He chose to be with Mairi. He didn’t choose me.”
“But hasn’t that changed now? Don’t you know he’d do anything for you? And don’t you think he’d want you to give Mairi a chance?”
“How do you know what he’d want? He’s not your father,” she snapped, “you don’t have—”
“No,” said Donnan, his voice small now. “I don’t.” He walked off. Kaetha stood alone in the clearing, cursing under her breath.
She found him later gathering a bundle of firewood. “Careful of your hand. Look, I’m sorry, I— Donnan?” He had dropped his firewood and was doubled up, clutching his stomach. She rushed over to him. His hands were shaking. “Are you hurt?” She felt his forehead which was cold and clammy. “Come, Donnan. I can make you better, I’m sure of it. Here,” she helped him back to his feet and supported him as they made their way back to the clearing.
“You can’t help me,” he muttered.
Mairi rushed over to them. “What is it? His injury?”
He shook his head.
“He’s unwell,” said Kaetha as they lowered him to the ground. “Let me see what I can find from Cailean’s herbs.”
He shook his head. “There’s nothing in that bag that will help me,” he said.
“Nonsense,” said Kaetha. “At least let me try.”
“What would help you?” asked Mairi.
Donnan stared at the ground, shame etched painfully into his face. “Tears of battle.”
“What?” said Kaetha. “For your hand?”
“I don’t mean that. I just need it,” said Donnan. “But there is none left.” He breathed deeply. “This will pass. It has before.”
“Before?” asked Kaetha. “You’ve been taking it in secret?” She thought back. “Nann
ie’s supplies were lower than she’d expected. You didn’t . . . ?”
His look was answer enough.He slumped forward with a sigh, putting his head in his hands, his body convulsing with sobs. Mairi crouched beside him, squeezing his shoulder. Kaetha began to recall a number of moments with Donnan over the last year or so when he’d been secretive or his behaviour odd. It was starting to make sense now.
“It’s alright, Donnan. You can talk to us,” she said, taking his hand. When he was calmer, she spoke again. “Why did you start taking opean?”
“Before I came to live in Braddon, I was sleeping on the streets in Kaernock. A monk gave me a dose of it for my injured shoulder. I found it helped me sleep without . . . without the dreams. I asked for more and he gave me some but soon he stopped. Said too much could be dangerous. But I needed it. Then a stranger told me of Nannie Hattock in Braddon and said she might have some, so I found her and, like the monk, she gave me a little but not as much as I wanted. When I ran out, the dreams came back.” He tightened his grip on Kaetha’s hand.
“What dreams?” Kaetha asked.
He shuddered. “It would come back. The fire and the blood.”
TWENTY ONE
Prisoners
Donnan sipped the herbal brew Kaetha had made whilst Mairi and Kaetha sat by the fire, waiting for him to talk.
“We were planning an uprising in Kaernock. My family had long sided with Clan Onuist. We joined with other families against the Macomrags. We were going to take Kaernock Hall and defend it, overthrowing the Macomrags and setting the Onuists in their place as High Clan. But we were betrayed. The Macomrags descended upon us before we could make our move. In my dreams I would hear them again, breaking down the door whilst I hid. I would hear my mother and sister pleading, begging. I could hear their screams. And I didn’t move. I would hear my father and brother cry out as they fought back. And I did nothing. Then there was silence. I came out and my family were dead and fire – fire was all around me.”
It had started raining and Kaetha wondered if tears dripped down his face along with the rain.
“Tears of battle took away those dreams, dulling the memory of what had happened. I’d get it whenever and from wherever I could. Aye, I even stole from Nannie. I hated myself for it. I hate who I’ve become. So, now you know.”
“I wish you’d told me sooner,” said Kaetha.
“And now you know that I’m a coward.”
“You’re not a coward.” She held his hand. “You went through something no one should have to face.”
“A person has no courage if they fear nothing,” said Mairi. “Only if they face their fears,” she caught Kaetha’s eye, “and that’s what you’re doing now. Telling us now when you’ve kept it all to yourself for so long, that takes courage.”
Kaetha wrapped a blanket around Donnan’s shoulders and she and Mairi set to work making a lean-to shelter. It wasn’t the best they’d made but it would help against the rain.
After seeing to Donnan’s injury, Mairi secured sticks to Kaetha’s broken fingers, wrapping them with a strip of cloth. Deep, steady breathing came from the shelter. The potion she’d made for Donnan might not give him a dreamless sleep but it would hopefully be a deep, calm one.
“Where is he?” asked Mairi, keeping her eyes on the cloth as she wrapped it around Kaetha’s fingers.
She knew she meant Tam. “He’ll be off scouting.”
They gathered what items of theirs they could find scattered around the clearing.
“Who do you think that ‘mistress’ was they spoke about?” asked Mairi.
“Perhaps she works for Murdo.” Kaetha shrugged and stowed Glenna’s hammer into one of their remaining two bags. “What’s missing?” she asked, indicating the bag in Mairi’s hands.
“Money. Food.”
Cold, hungry and in pain, Kaetha didn’t even try to think of a plan or words to give them hope. It would be nothing but a fool’s hope.
“There’s only a mile or so left of the forest,” said Tam. Mairi started. They hadn’t heard him approach. “And beyond it, a village,” he added. Mairi didn’t even look at him.
“What village?” asked Kaetha.
“How should I know? A village is a village. I just thought you’d like to know.”
“Thank you, Tam,” said Kaetha. “Maybe I should go there and see if I can beg for food, before it starts getting dark.”
Mairi put down her bowl and got to her feet.
“You should stay,” said Kaetha, “keep an eye on Donnan.”
Mairi was clearly still exhausted and looked half relieved at the permission to stay, but half worried too. “You won’t be gone long?”
She shook her head. “Watch over them,” she said in an undertone to Tam as she passed him.
The village was quiet. An old man pushing a wheelbarrow crossed her path.
“Excuse me, do you have any food?”
He scowled at her, continuing on his way.
Charming.
She heard a tapping and turned to see what looked like an old tool shed beside a barn. She went over to it and tried the door. It wouldn’t budge. She heard breathing, a stifled cry and a ‘shh’. In the door was a sliding shutter. She slid it open, revealing the wooden slats set into the window and the darkness within the shed. She smelt stale sweat and human filth.
“Who is it?” someone snapped. “Well? Come to throw more rotten food, have you, bastard?” A hand gripped one of the slats, covered in dirt, bloodied with scratches on the knuckles and bound at the wrist with rope. “What are you waiting for?” A face now appeared, just as grimy as the hand; glinting, ferocious eyes; matted hair streaked with grey; a scabbed cut sliced across her cheek. “Who are you?” she said, studying Kaetha’s face. The scruffy hair and wide eyes of a little boy appeared at the window, his temple marbled with bruising. Then he was gone. A third person wept quietly in the far corner.
“What happened to you? Why are you here?” Kaetha asked.
“You’re not from here.”
Kaetha shook her head.
“All the illness,” began the woman, “all the misfortune in the village – we are blamed. The failed wheat crop, the dead horse, even the bitch of a Lady’s unfaithfulness to her Laird, her belly swelling for all to see, that’s somehow our fault, our corruption, our witchcraft.” She laughed bitterly. “I wish I could curse them now for what they’ve done. Betrayed by friends, my boy beaten, all of us half starved, squatting in our own mess. Meg won’t even tell me all that they did to her. They’ll take us to Creagairde to be tried and hanged. Heaven knows I wish I was dead already.”
Kaetha put her hand on hers. “I’m sorry.”
The woman was silent for some moments. “You’ve been marked too,” she said. “You’d better get out of this place – now.”
“I’m sorry,” she repeated.
“Go, lass. And you’d better close this or someone will try to find out who’s been talking to us.”
With a heavy heart, she pulled the shutter across the window, forcing the prisoners into total darkness once more.
Kaetha lay beside Donnan. Tam sat outside in the rain, his wolf eyes glinting in the night. Hours trudged by like a walk through a bog and Kaetha listened to the rain, trying to keep the thoughts away that threatened to turn into nightmares. Once she heard Mairi’s heavy breathing, she crept from the shelter, holding a finger to her lips as Tam looked up at her.
“What are you doing?” whispered Donnan, staggering out after her.
“Tam,” said Kaetha. “Keep guard here. I’ll be back soon.”
Tam lay down, keeping his head up and ears pricked.
“Answer me, Kaetha.”
She tucked a knife into her belt. “There are some people in the village I need to help.”
“Are you putting yourself in danger?”
She didn’t answer.
“Are you sure it’s worth it, Kit?”
“They’re good people, Donnan. If I don’t help th
em, they’ll be taken to Creagairde and tried for witchcraft. They’ll die. All of them. Aye, it’s worth me going.”
“Right. Let’s go then.”
“No. You’re not well enough.”
“I’m better than I was. The fever’s gone now. I can be lookout at least.”
She paused, thinking. “You must turn back if you start to feel unwell again.” She passed him a knife. “I’d be better off alone than having to carry you back.” She knew the harshness of her words but she had to be clear. People’s lives were at stake.
He nodded. “I understand, Kit.”
She got Donnan to wait at the side of a cottage where he had both a view of the central street of the village and the tiny hut where the prisoners were being held.
“And if I see someone coming?” he asked.
“Make a bird call or something.”
“The only one I can do is a seagull. And I don’t reckon they have many of them around here. Particularly not nocturnal ones.”
“A seagull will just have to do.” And with that, she left him and ran to the hut. She slid back the shutter. “Hello?” The silence clutched at her heart as the idea came to her that they’d already been taken to Creagairde. She leant her head against the wooden bars and sighed in disappointment.
“Who is it?”
Kaetha gasped. Thank Heaven you’re still here. It’s me. I’m going to get you out. Keep away from the door.”
“Careful, lass.”
She could already feel the heat pulsing through her, the magic waiting to be freed. With her hands hovering before the door, she focused her energy. Power stretched through her, trembling into her hands. Then she smelt smoke. It seemed to be working. But her splints and bandages had caught alight, not the door. She gasped, only just stopping herself from crying out, shaking her injured hand, pulling at the splint and bandages, flinging them to the ground.
“What’s happening?” came the young boy’s voice.
“Shh,” said one of the women.
“It’s alright,” said Kaetha, blowing cool air over her raw fingers. Thinking about what had happened with the splints and bandages, she realised she could control exactly where the fire took hold. Rather than blasting the door as she’d planned to do, she could target the lock, then push open the door, minimising the risk the fire would pose to the prisoners. She just had to touch where she wanted to burn. I’ve burned this hand anyway, she thought, a moment longer in fire shouldn’t make much difference. Feeling the scratchy surface of the door with her good hand, her fingers caught against the keyhole and the edge of the door.
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