“Remember this, MacRuari. I am deliberate about who earns my trust where my daughter is concerned.”
Ailith responded to the warmth inside the small cabin on the ship, pleased to see Dyna was here too. “Mama, are you warm enough?”
“Aye, but tell me what happened.”
“I had visions. I’ll explain them later, but first I heard a ringing in my ear, then I had a sharp pain in my head. Has it ever happened to you, Dyna?”
“I get headaches when the visions are more important. When I have little visions, naught happens, but if I see someone dying or if their life is in danger, I get sharp pains. The same happens to Avelina. Did you see someone die?”
“Nay, it was of a faery hill, I think. I’ll tell you later.”
“Mayhap as your sight grows stronger, it becomes more sensitive to things that are wrong in the world. You’re in the middle of the sea and visions can come from many directions.”
Her mother patted her hand. “That makes sense, Ailith. Perhaps it is because we are on the ship.”
“Or because we are getting closer to Islay,” Dyna whispered. “Was there anything else?”
She hesitated to confess, but decided if Dyna could explain it, she’d feel better. “Just something odd.”
“What?” Dyna asked.
She dropped her voice to a low whisper, one she hoped would keep her father and Edan from hearing her words. “When Edan took my hand, this thrumming happened. He didn’t notice it, but I surely did.”
Dyna’s eyes widened and her tone changed.
“There’s something in his blood.”
Chapter Fifteen
Edan
Edan heeded Alasdair Grant’s warning, moving to the stern of the boat. He decided to distance himself from what he perceived as Alasdair’s irrational threat. He had made no move toward his daughter other than to prevent her from hitting her head on the boat’s hard deck. What made Alasdair see it as anything else?
Roger joined him, bringing a hunk of bread to share. “This should hold us until this eve. MacLean says he doesn’t bring much food for the voyage, just drinks. Here’s a bit of ale for you.” He set down the odd covered container. “He’s quite an interesting man to converse with. He runs the Brotherhood of the Black Keel with two others, Connor Grant’s youngest son and Magni MacQuarie. We met MacQuarie on the first voyage.”
“I recall MacQuarie well enough.” Edan gnawed on the crusty end of the bread after breaking off a large piece.
Roger lowered his voice so the others wouldn’t hear. “With all this talk of faeries and faery hills, I have to ask you a question. What exactly did Da tell you about faeries? I think you’re hiding something.”
“I’m not hiding anything. He told me to watch out for them, or they’d steal me away. Like any parent, he made up stories to scare us. Do you not recall when he told you that if you were bad, they’d come and get you in the middle of the night?”
Roger tipped his head at Edan, as if making an important point. “I do. Which is why I’m bringing it up. You aren’t seeing a connection?”
Edan’s temper flared. “You think a wee bairn like Heilyn is capable of being bad? You think she was stolen in the night for doing something she shouldn’t have?”
Roger stood up. “She was stolen in the middle of the night, and so was Milo.”
“Those two bairns haven’t done anything wrong!” Edan wanted to shake his brother, to stop him from dredging up such ridiculous points.
Each of Roger’s points struck Edan in a place he desperately tried to avoid, the day their sire died. Their father had lost his mind in his sickness, and that was the end of it. There was no reason to keep bringing it up over and over again.
Even if it were true.
Why must Roger suggest a link between then and now? Even if, deep down, a part of Edan feared it might be true. He hated the thought, yet something about it felt disturbingly wrong, and he refused to let himself focus on it.
“I’ll drop it,” Roger said, chewing on a hunk of bread. “What was going on with Ailith?”
“She had some headaches. She’s fine now.”
