As the McKenzie men searched, Maeve simply prayed that all of her friends had been able to hide well, or at least could keep moving long enough to keep the wolves at bay. Where was Darren? Had he managed to find their weapons and escape safely, or had he been captured too? The thought made Maeve dizzy, but she clung to the tree branch, desperate not to let herself be overwhelmed by despair.
It seemed like many hours, though Maeve had no way of knowing for sure how much time had passed before the McKenzie men at last gave up on their search and marched together back toward McKenzie Castle. Maeve stayed up in the tree for a lot longer after that, waiting until she was sure they were gone before she risked returning to the ground level.
Immediately after she had, she set out to find her friends. To her relief, Darren was one of the first she came across. Impulsively, she threw her arms around him, and he hugged her back tightly in the kind of warm brotherly embrace she needed right now.
"Ye're safe," she whispered. "Thank God. I didnae see ye get here."
"I found another way out. And, look." Darren pointed to the bushes behind him. He reached in and pulled out a bundle of swords—Tailfeather among them.
A sense of calmness settled over Maeve as she took her sword in her hand, reassurance that all was not lost. This weapon was a connection to Cailean, and she was sure that, wherever he was, he was still alive and waiting for her to come save him. "Thank ye, for bringin' it tae me."
"Of course. Let's find the others," Darren told her.
They spent the better part of half an hour searching the forest, and much to Maeve's joy, this at least was not a fruitless endeavor. They found all nine of the others, each of them concealed cleverly in hiding places, each of them overjoyed to be reunited with their companions. Even young Dirk had done well, finding a hollow to hide in while the enemy had invaded.
Once everyone had their weapons in hand, and they had all made sure that nobody was more than superficially hurt, all eyes turned to Maeve and Darren.
"Well?" Maeve asked him. "Ye heard Cailean. Ye're his second in command, his heir. Ye must take over now; tell us what is tae be done."
But Darren shook his head. "I may be his heir for the moment, but ye're already his queen. A weddin' is only a formality for the two of ye at this point. The command is yers, Maeve."
Touched and overwhelmed by the gesture, Maeve felt tears spring to her eyes, though of course she did not let them fall. She looked out around her friends and saw that all of them were watching her with the same respect, waiting for her to make a decision—to lead them.
It seemed almost too much. She felt exhausted, scared, and desperate to get to Cailean. But as she had already told herself, and as Darren had rightly pointed out, she was to be a queen.
And if she was going to be a queen, she had a job to do.
"All right," she said. "Listen up. We need tae find a way tae get help, and get word back tae Bruce Castle about what has happened."
"I can help with that," a voice announced in a lilting French accent.
All eleven heads turned to see a woman emerge from the trees, wearing a simple maid's uniform. Maeve recognized her instantly.
"Ye're Sorcha's maid. Delphine," she acknowledged.
"I am. And I regret leaving the girl alone. But I go where I am needed, and right now, I believe you are in need, no?" Delphine asked.
She tapped her chest, and Maeve saw at last what she had missed there before.
Embroidered in a small patch right on Delphine's lapel was a tiny white sparrow.
They followed Delphine through the forest, though Maeve always kept her hand close to the hilt of her sword. She trusted the White Sparrows to guide them, and she believed that Delphine was trying to help, but a tiny part of her remembered that they had been betrayed before. She was on the edge of tears, but not the kind that would result in quiet sobbing; a storm of desperation and fury raged within her chest, and she knew that if she let them go she would rage and scream and howl louder than the winds of the wildest tempest.
And so Maeve set her face and remained calm, pushing on, leading her group, following the only lead they had. Delphine explained that she had been placed at McKenzie Castle as a spy many years ago, just as Maeve's friend Ann had been placedat Darach Castle, what felt like so long ago. Maeve almost asked if Delphine knew Ann, but she couldn't bring herself to concentrate on that right now.
Where was Cailean? Was he hurt? Was he in danger? She was sure that he was not dead; her heart would know if he was gone from the world. But the not knowing…it made her feel weak, helpless in a way she hadn't been in a long time, and she hated it.
"We're here," Delphine announced, pushing back a tree branch and opening the way to a small cottage. They were deep in the forest, and the small house was hidden away almost from the rest of the world. A vegetable patch and several crops surrounded the little farmhouse, and a sheep or two grazed on the wild forest grass.
The door opened at Delphine's knock, and a broad-shouldered man with salt-and-pepper hair stood in the door frame. He briefly took Delphine's hand in greeting, then peered at the people gathered behind her.
"My uncle, Taran," Delphine introduced. "He is the reason I have moved to this country and discovered the Sparrows. He will protect you and give you a place to stay."
"I will, will I?" Taran asked in a broad Scots accent that was a startling contrast to his niece, casting his eyes over them again. Maeve saw a strength in that gaze that was younger than his years, and kindness, too. She felt innately that she could trust him. "What strays have ye brought me now, Del?"
Maeve stepped forward. "Please, sir. Me name is Maeve O'Sullivan?—"
"O'Sullivan?" Taran asked, narrowing his eyes. He looked to Delphine. "Is this her? The lass who led the McNair rebels and retook Bruce Castle?"
