The storm blew through sometime during the night, but it left a chasing wind behind. Soaking wet, they sat and shivered and got no sleep even after the rain ceased.
When they rose, the world lay cloaked in mist. So thick was it, they could see no more than a few steps in any direction. When Wen moved off, a gray shadow in a dim landscape, Bradana feared she would lose him. He returned to them, but without any game.
Despair touched Bradana’s heart. Indeed, Alba showed them her hard and merciless side. What were they to do?
“We cannot travel far in this,” Adair said, answering the question she had not asked. “Let us scout around to find a better place to lie over till it clears.”
They did, though it seemed like stumbling through the dark. Shapes of rocks and hillsides and stunted trees loomed before them. When a much larger shape appeared, Bradana stopped in consternation.
In the gray-misted world, it looked like a monster, hulking and twisted. Malevolent. Reason told her it must be some man-made structure, which she found still more terrifying.
People out here? They must be blue men. Had they stumbled on another settlement?
“Do not go near.” She seized Adair’s hand.
But Wen ran forward, his great tail a plume in motion. And Adair told her gently, “I think ’tis a tower. Half ruined.”
Aye, the blue men built such towers. They must indeed have strayed beyond the bounds of Dalriadan civilization.
“Stay here with the ponies.” And Adair followed Wen.
The moment, the terrible moment when he disappeared from her sight, she thought her world wound end. Terror made her disobedient, took her forward to follow him in turn.
The tower was indeed ruined, half fallen and no doubt long abandoned. The top stones had tumbled sideways into the turf, but the side with the doorway still stood.
Even as she came up leading both ponies, Adair emerged from inside.
“I think ’tis safe and will offer some shelter if the rain returns.”
“Is anyone there?”
He shook his head. “Abandoned.”
“Are ye certain?”
“Aye. Let us rest up here until the weather clears, and we can figure our direction.”
Bradana did not feel easy about it. She could not see the land in any direction, and the dark stones of the tower, glistening with wet, lent a feeling of dread.
To be sure, with the top fallen, those who had built it would likely not return. But the doorway looked like the entrance to doom.
Did Alba offer them sanctuary? Or a trap?
She could not tell.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
They left theponies outside so they could graze. So far, the two animals had fared better than the rest of them, grass being thick and lush at this time of year. They hauled everything else inside, where Adair insisted there was room to have a fire.
“We have no fuel,” Bradana protested, standing with her hair, her clothing, and her very spirit drooping.
“I will go out and gather some. Love, if ye do not get warm, I fear ye will fall ill.”
She turned and tried to look at him, difficult in the gloom. In truth, she did not need to see him. He was as wet as she, clothing sticking to him and hair plastered down. Beneath that clothing, his vitality threatened to wane. The great tear at his shoulder had healed over but left an ugly, ragged scar he would carry all his life. He must be as hungry as she.
“Is it safe to have a fire?” she asked. Given they could get one lit.
“Aye—in this weather, no one will see.”
