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"Thank you," Jemmy said. "I'm glad you told me."

Alistair took a long breath. "And that's why I canna do as your father asked me."

"But I thought—didn't he tell you to—" Jemmy stopped, frowning.

"He did. Take it all, he said. Let Malcolm rule after."

"Which, if I recall, is exactly what you told me you intended to do last year."

"It was. But not now."

"Why?" Jemmy asked, his voice hard with suspicion.

Alistair gripped the cup tightly between his hands. What should he say next? How could he possibly make Jemmy understand?

"You won't believe it if I tell ye."

"Try me."

"All right, then. It started last Beltane Eve—but no, I won't go into that, you'll think me mad for sure. Just know that Fergus sent me on a—well, a journey, and I had a—a dream. A Sending. Of Ian. It's been with me ever since, over and over again, always starting the same way. But I didna ken what it meant."

"Now you do?"

Alistair nodded.

He was running down the forest path, chasing Ian, and then with shocking suddenness Ian was there before him, not a boy now but a man.

"Stop following me!" he cried. "Ye canna help me now, 'tis too late!"

"Then what?" Alistair demanded. "What is it ye want?"

"I want ye to do as I asked! Think, man, think!"

"Well?" Jemmy prompted. "Are you going to tell me what the dream meant?"

"'Take care of Jemmy,'" Alistair whispered, staring down at his empty cup. "That's what he said. The dream was always a bit different, but that part never changed. I didna mark it until yestere'en."

Jemmy leaned back against the pillows. "I'm hardly in a position to question something that benefits me so profoundly, but I must confess to some concern. What if you have another dream?"

"This was no ordinary dream, but a Sending," Alistair snapped. "Believe or no' as ye choose. But I know what he bade me do and I mean to do it."

Jemmy grinned. "Whether I want you to or not?"

"That's right."

"Well, then, having no choice in the matter, I suppose the only thing to do is thank you."

"Then you believe me?"

"Does it make a difference?"

Alistair slumped back in his seat. "I suppose not."

"Well, for what it's worth, I do believe that you mean what you say. As for the dream—" He frowned. "A year ago I would have laughed, but I've seen some strange things myself since I've come back. May I ask how do you intend to go about it?" he added quickly, before Alistair could ask what he meant. "All along I thought you were the one making the plans, but if that's not so, then Calder is more dangerous than I thought."

"He is. But not nearly so dangerous as I can be if I put my mind to it."

Jemmy smiled. "I do believe that's true."