Page 85

“Whelp, maybe something else. What do you think Clackmannanshire is going to be like, will you recognize it?”

“I daena ken, twill be unsettling. Niall said the castle inna there, and I doubt the inn will be standin’...” Then he asked, “Will we be able tae get a roast and bannocks with good cheese? Och nae, I am hungry.”

“We ate it all, we ought to sleep if we can.”

“We will start at dawn.”

I put my head on his shoulder, looking down at the flashlight that had gone completely dark. “The batteries ran out.”

I sighed. “It would have almost been better to not have it at all, now I really miss it.”

“Twas fleetin’, the magic has worn off.”

“Magic?”

“Aye. It must be the fae. They love a wee bit of magic that shines long enough tae tempt ye, then goes out when ye need it.”

He had his hands on the bag with the casket in it, our coinage stuffed under his arm. The horses were quiet, asleep, the last of the coals burning down with soft crackles. Dude came over and got on my lap, curled up, purring. “This is nice.”

I waited for an answer, but then looked up when I heard him snoring, Torin was already asleep.

Knowing that he was asleep made it hard for me to sleep. And that was kind of asinine. But also, he fell asleep without telling me if we needed a guard, did we need a guard? Dude was asleep too… were none of the men worried about the strange men or beasts that were likely hanging out right out there?

I guessed not, which meant I should relax too — the shifts of the horses, the scurries of something in the bushes, the wind in the upper boughs of the trees, the hoot of an owl… if Dude didn’t care, then neither would I. I would not guard. Besides what would I do anyway — nudge Torin to make it safe?

No, I would rest.

I slowly fell asleep.

In the middle of the night, I felt Torin jerk awake with a, “Huh!”

He looked around wildly, grabbed the saddlebag under his arm, opened the flap, and pawed through it for the casket. “Tis here, och, twas a dream.”

“You dreamt something happened to it?”

“Aye.” He let the bag slide off his lap to the forest floor and sank his head back against the tree. “It seemed so real, I thought it had been taken.” He put his hand in the bag, holding the casket.

“You’re very concerned with it, you didn’t even know him, or his family.”

He nodded. “I think he might be yer family, and therefore mine… ye ken.”

“Oh yeah, true.” I cuddled up against his arm again. “It’s getting kind of cold.”

“We hae just moved through the Wolf Hour, vivid dreams and a chill.” He dragged a different bag over and reached in for a blanket and sniffed it. “Och, we need a great deal of washin’ up, I miss the soaps and scents of yer world.”

“Me too.”

He spread the blanket across my chest and arms and had the tail across his stomach. “Twill get chillier, we are at the edge of dawn, the blade that falls between night and day cuts like cold steel.”

He put his arm around my shoulders and pulled me close, making me feel very warm and safe.

He exhaled low.

“You’re still bothered by your dream?”

“Aye, it goes beyond thinkin’ he was a relative, a fellow member of Clan Campbell, or an ancestor or yers, from yer line of kings. It bothers me that he was alone back here and now he has died without his family. Was he lost⁠—?”

“Like us?”