“Fifty?”
“Even more than fifty.”
Matthew sucked in a breath. “Ahundred?”
Melody reached down and tweaked his nose, earning herself a smile from the boy.
“Evenmorethan that.”
“Enough,” Kat laughed. “Come, we want ye to see the festival, aye?”
She drew Melody away, and the boy waved after her.
“Enjoy yerself, me Lady!” the boy’s mother called. “And take me blessings on yer marriage!”
Melody shot the woman a quick smile before Kat pulled her away into the crowd.
“Did you hear that?” she whispered. “She offered me her blessing on my marriage. That’s good, isn’t it?”
“Very good,” Kat confirmed. “But look, have ye nae noticed the lights? I told ye that they would be somethin’.”
Melody glanced upward, and her eyes widened. Countless small lanterns were hanging on strings between the trees, the flames glittering and jumping. It created a soft blur of light, the trees dark and shadowy behind the clearing.
“They’re beautiful,” Melody whispered.
“Come, I’ll show ye the stalls. And then we’ll have some ale, aye? Or whisky! I bet ye have nae hadgoodwhisky yet.”
“I’ve never drunk…” Melody stammered, then broke off when Kat stared at her, horrified.
“Ye have never drunk whisky? Never tried it?”
“Ladies daenae drink strong spirits. In London, at least.”
“Well, this is Scotland, and it’s cold here. Ye are tryin’ some. Come, come.”
Kat dragged her down a row of stalls, selling a variety of things—knitted shawls and scarves, bolts of fabric, sweetmeats, cider, jewelry, and more. She paused before one stall ran by a hunched-over old woman who seemed to be at least twice as old as Sophie.
“What are these? They’re so strange. Are they necklaces?” Melody enquired, gingerly touching one pendant.
The pendants were all smooth stones, mostly triangular, but some were other shapes. They appeared to be made of all kinds of stone, polished to a high gloss. There were even wooden pieces. In the center of each pendant, however, was a smooth hole. Some holes were small, others large enough for Melody to get her thumb through. The pendants hung from strips of leather or braided twine, or were even piled in boxes by themselves.
“These are hagstones, lass,” the old woman quavered. “Good to peer between this world and the next. They keep ye safe.”
“They’re beautiful. I’ve never seen anything like it back home.”
“Aye, they are beautiful, but that’s nae their purpose. Here, take this.”
The old woman raked her gnarled hands through her wares, which were piled haphazardly, and plucked out one necklace. The hagstone was a smooth, stony green and hung on twine braided in a complex, twirling pattern. She held out the necklace toward Melody.
“Th-Thank you,” Melody stammered. “How much is it?”
The old woman chuckled. “It’s a gift. It’s lucky to give a bride a hagstone. Lets her see the world ahead as it really is. We cannae change our futures, of course, but it can do us good to foresee a wee bit of it, and prepare accordingly.
Melody glanced over at Kat. Would it be rude to reject the gift? She suspected that it would be extremely impolite at best, and unlucky at worst. She opened her hand, and the woman let the cool stone plop into her palm.
“I wish ye the best, lass,” the old woman said, pulling her layers of shawls and scarves more tightly around herself. “Beware the beast’s fangs.”
Melody went still.
