“Why not?” Catriona replied, puzzled. “Ye like my da, dinna ye? And my da likes ye.”
Rose blinked. “He… he does?”
“Of course he does. He hasnae been anywhere near as grumpy since ye arrived. In fact, he’s only given me a scolding onceandhe didnae make me put Patch in the kennels. And if ye and Da get married, I’ll get a new ma!” She bounced on her toes in excitement. “Wouldnae that be grand?”
Rose opened her mouth to respond—though she had no idea what words would come out—but was saved by a sudden shout from the gate.
Turning in that direction and squinting through the biting wind, she saw a group of people slogging up the hill towards the gates. They were dressed in traveling gear and were carrying bundles of belongings on their backs. There were even a few carts pulled by weary-looking donkeys.
An old woman led them, and it took a moment for Rose to recognize Agnes, headwoman of Hemkirk.
Rose gasped. “They came!”
Catriona squinted at the newcomers. “Is that good?”
“Yes,” Rose breathed. “That’s very good. Come on.”
She took Catriona’s hand and started for the gates, Patch running ahead and barking his welcome.
The crowd had been stopped at the gates as the guards questioned them but, knowing full well who these people were, Rose pushed her way through to where Agnes was arguing with them.
“It’s all right, Jonas,” Rose said to the guard. “These are the people of Hemkirk. Laird Cailean has offered them shelter. You can let them in.”
Jonas, a gangly youth who took his duties very seriously, looked dubious. But he also looked like he had no intention of arguing with a MacFinnan spellweaver.
The lad swallowed and then inclined his head. “As ye say, mistress.”
He swung the gate wide and indicated for the newcomers to enter the courtyard. Rose took Agnes’s arm and helped her inside while Catriona guided the families to an overhang where warm broth was already being handed out.
“You came,” Rose said, unable to keep the surprise from her voice.
The old woman nodded. “Aye, although I wasnae sure we would. Some of us can be more stubborn than Albert’s goats.” She nodded and Rose saw Catriona and Patch trotting at the side of an old man as he led a couple of white goats towards the stable.
Rose tilted her head as she regarded Agnes. She looked tired, the skin of her face seemingly drawn too tightly over her skull. “What changed your mind?”
Agnes paused, looking uncomfortable and her hand rose to clasp the small woven charm that hung from a leather thong around her neck. “The stormlights.”
Rose’s breath hitched. “You saw them too?”
Agnes nodded and her voice dropped lower. “We could hardly miss them, lass. They lit up the bay from end to end, like it was on fire. It was terrifying. And then the lightning—lightning struck the beach and the islets out in the bay. Much too close to the village for comfort. After that even the most stubborn of the old fools decided we had to leave.”
Rose blinked, digesting this news. “What does it mean?” she muttered.
“It means, lass,” Agnes said, “that the old gods are waking. And some of us are finally starting to listen.”
She turned away, joining the rest of her people who were being ushered into the warmth of the kitchen. Rose stood rooted to the spot, watching them go.
Catriona came bouncing up to her. “Did ye see the goats? One of them tried to eat Patch’s tail!”
Rose barely heard her, her thoughts fixed on Agnes’s words. Stormlights. Lightning. The bay at Hemkirk lit like fire. Could that be the key to all of this?
She turned to Catriona, crouching until she was at eye level with her. “I need you to do something very important for me.
Catriona’s eyes lit up. “What?”
“I need you to help these people get settled. Make sure they get some food and are shown where they can put their things. And if you see anyone looking frightened or lonely, you take Patch over. He’s good at cheering people up.”
Catriona beamed, bobbing on her toes at being given such responsibility. “I willnae let ye down!”
