"Nae many of the lassies have been on yer hip practically since birth," Neala replied. She smiled, and Laura smiled back. Despite that, she could see the worry in her old nursemaid's eyes. "Ye dinnae need tae do this, Laura."
"I do," Laura replied. "Butyedinnae." She shook her head. "Twenty years ago, I had hoped… I'd hoped I could have managed tae help both ye and Abigail tae escape, but I failed in that. Yer brothers, as well, I had tae leave behind. But I got ye out, and I swore with all that I had that I'd protect ye."
"And ye have," Neala assured her. "But now it's me turn tae act."
Laura nodded, gazing down at the nut paste in the bowl. "Aye," she said, the word a reedy sigh. "But ye can still change yer mind. We can buy more time. Ye can wait until Morag returns…"
"We dinnae ken when that will be. We havenae heard from her or from Ann in weeks." Neala shook her head. "If the rumors are true, if the rebellion is truly makin' strides, then there's nae more time tae wait."
Worry flashed across Laura's face, and Neala knew that it wasn't just for her. She wouldn't admit it, but it was clear to themall that Laura was very worried about the other head Sparrow. Still, her attention was back on Neala in a moment. "Someone else could take this role, child. Ye're so valuable. We could find ye another mission, one less dangerous?—"
Neala held up a hand. They'd had this argument before, over and over again, and Neala would not hear it anymore. "It's me fate. Me duty. Melegacy. I would be betrayin' me family, betrayin' meself, if I didnae do this. I will take me revenge, one way or another, and help free the country from this darkness once and for all."
Laura sighed, but she nodded again, more decisively this time. "Give me the bowl, child. Allow me tae finish the grindin' while ye fetch the rest."
The two didn't speak anymore as they worked, and when the preparation was ready, Laura helped Neala apply it to her hair, then, at Neala's insistence, set to work with a pair of scissors. After the dye had time to set, Laura led Neala to a mirror and bade her to look.
The same dark eyes stared back at her, the same sharp nose and strong though feminine jaw, the same freckles on her nose. But it was amazing how different she felt now, seeing a woman with shoulder-length dark hair staring back at her instead of the waves of gold. She swallowed, though remained dry-eyed, and turned back to Laura.
"Ye'll need a new name," Laura told her. "Ye'll choose one on the way. And ye must live and breathe yer new self. Ye cannae be Neala McNair, nae anymore, nae until the mission is done."
"I ken," Neala replied.
Laura held out her arms, and the formality broke as the two embraced, more like mother and daughter than teacher and student for a brief moment. When they parted, Laura kept her hands on Neala's shoulders.
"Now," she said, "Are ye ready?"
Neala glanced back at the girl in the mirror, then back to her mentor. "Aye. I'm ready."
