“A quick temper is a verra ugly trait in a woman,” Coira said as she stood and shook out her skirts.
Karma whined as he stared back at Granny, his tail wagging in a slow rhythm.
“Trulie.” Granny called out again, her voice stronger this time.
“What is it?” Trulie turned, exasperation fanning her temper. Tonight had been a total waste of time. Why hadn’t that stupid vision shown her it was Coira messing with the poisonous plant?
“I have seen who our prospective murderer is.” Granny scurried across the garden like a rabbit seeking shelter.
“What?” Trulie couldn’t believe what Granny had just said. How could Granny know who the assassin was? Trulie hadn’t received any new premonitions. All she had gotten was a shortened version of the first one. “What did you just say?”
Granny pressed a hand to her chest as she glanced back across the shadowy expanse of the garden. She swallowed hard and licked her lips while gasping for breath. “Dammit to hell. I am too old for a night run through the garden.”
“Calm down.” Trulie rubbed a hand up and down Granny’s narrow back. “Take a deep breath and tell us what you saw as soon as you catch your breath. You can’t die on me now.” Trulie slipped Granny’s hand into hers and lightly patted it. “Are you sure you really had the vision or were you just rehashing the one I told you I had?”
Granny shot her a withering look that clearly saidDo not even go there.
Kicking the quickly wilting plant to one side, Trulie bent, scooped up the spade, and jammed it into the ground. “I am not saying I doubt you. But I haven’t picked up anything new since the last one. I’ve only seen the part about Colum since Beala and Fearghal died. I just keep going over the same details to try to catch our suspect. Are you sure that’s not what you’re doing?”
Granny folded her arms across her chest and jerked her chin down in a decisive nod. “I am positive. The killer is a woman and she looks a lot like Aileas.”
Trulie tried to wrap her mind around the fact that Granny had gotten a warning and she hadn’t. And someone who looked like Aileas? Trulie shivered. She hadn’t noticed anyone around the keep fitting that description. “Coira, have you seen anyone who looks just like Aileas working in the kitchens?”
“Nay.” Coira shivered with such a look of disgust; Trulie didn’t doubt she had seen no one fitting that description.
Granny’s eyes narrowed as she wrinkled her nose and stared down at the foxglove. “I am certain of it. And she works in the kitchens.” Granny paused and tilted her head as though watching something crawl among the plant’s leaves. “But it seems as though she is hidden from the others. It is all very strange. And she brought her own poisoned leaves ... or maybe it’s just she always keeps them with her.” Granny scowled harder, her face puckering with the effort. “The herbs are tucked in a drawstring bag. She wears it looped around her neck and tucked way down in her shirt.” Granny tilted her head to one side as though trying to improve her view. “She fears someone is going to find the poison. Afraid that if she doesn’t do the job right...” Granny squinted her eyes tighter, slowly moving her head as though following the assassin’s movements. “She can never go back to wherever she came from. Her hands shake every time she rubs some kind of braided chain of hair hanging around her neck. It’s looped through a hole in the bag of poison.”
Granny’s hands knotted into shaking fists. “She is back there in the shadows. With a strange look on her face. Maybe even be laughing. It’s ... it’s hard to say. What is she watching?” Granny stomped her foot and her eyes popped open. “You and I were standing in front of a stone mausoleum. We were holding each other, crying. You had one of those brooches with the MacKenna insignia in your hand. That woman must be stopped.”
A gnawing uneasiness nagged at the back of Trulie’s mind. Why hadn’t she seen what this mysterious woman had done? Why had the newest version of the vision only come to Granny?
* * *
Gray cradledhis head in his hands, digging his thumbs into his temples in slow, tight circles. “Explain again how ye choose which things ye will attempt to change and which ye willna bother?” Trulie’s logic made his head hurt. He would never understand it.
“Premonitions haven’t happened yet.” Trulie paced around the small confines of the underground chamber used for storing root vegetables through the winter. She turned and faced him as she reached the farthest earth wall of the dugout chamber opposite the heavy oak door. “When Fate sends me a premonition, depending on the feel of it, it’s kind of like an invitation to change it before the bad thing happens. A blessing from Destiny.” She shrugged as if she couldn’t fathom why he didn’t understand.
“And Granny can identify the woman who wishes me dead?” He stood in the open doorway of the hole. He had never liked this room, and since the stench of Fearghal’s prison chamber, close spaces disturbed him even more. The damp chill of the place made his skin crawl. He shifted his weight from one foot to other. Lore, he hoped they finished soon.
Trulie nodded as she lifted the lid of a wooden barrel and peered inside. “Yes. Granny said she got a good look at the woman’s face. She said she looks a lot like Aileas.”
“Like Aileas?” Gray stifled a shudder. Had nature been so cruel as to have used that same mold twice?
“I know. That was my reaction too.” Trulie eased the lid back down on the barrel and dusted the dirt from her hands. “So, can you think of anyone who meets that description?”
He sorted through all the servants he could think of. Try as he might, no Aileas maidservant came to mind. “Nay.” He shook his head. “But if Cook just put her to work in the kitchens, I may not have seen her.”
He motioned Trulie forward out of the depths of the cellar. “Come. Get Granny and I shall send for Colum. We will walk through the kitchens and see if we can oust Donall’s hired assassin.”
Trulie sneezed, scrubbed her arms, and nodded her agreement. “There’s something else I need to ask Granny. Something really bothers me about her vision.”
“What bothers ye?” He took the braided rope of onions from her and supported her arm while she climbed up the narrow stone steps. He hadn’t understood why she had chosen to feign an errand to the root cellar to share the news of Granny’s discovery, but the longer he was around this precious woman, the more he learned it was no use questioning her motives. His complicated lady love usually had good reason.
“I should have gotten the vision too,” she said as she emerged from the narrow hallway and stepped out into the wide, airy space of the kitchen’s full larder.
He didn’t see the problem, but apparently, she was quite troubled that Granny was the sole receiver of the vision. “Mayhap ye have been too distracted to properly receive another vision.”
She gave a doubtful shake of her head. “Maybe. I am hoping Granny can explain it.”
