Lachlan met her gaze, his golden eyes very bright against his olive skin. Isabeau shut her eyes, listening to the deep reverberations of the Celestines’ voices. Lachlan’s clear harmonies wove all through it, like the gold of celandines through grass. The very ground beneath her feet thrummed with the sound of it, running up her legs and spine and into her brain so that all of her quivered and thrilled in response. She clenched her jaw, her hands clasped in her lap.
The song shivered into silence. Isabeau opened her eyes. The sun had lifted above the horizon, a blazing orb of golden light, and birds were singing joyously. Lachlan released the faeries’ hands and bent down his own, large and warm, to help Isabeau to her feet.
‘By Eà’s green blood, how do ye come here?’ he cried. ‘Ye just stepped out o’ thin air, Isabeau! I almost broke the song, which would’ve been an ill omen indeed.’
Celestines clustered all about, lifting their four-jointed fingers to touch Lachlan between the eyes. Isabeau smiled and shrugged, stepping back, and he submitted to the faeries’ touch, mouthing, ‘Later!’
Behind the faeries a circle of witches sat around a fire, naked, their hair unbound, their fingers loaded with jewels. On their heads they wore wreaths of yew and rosemary, and the herb-scented smoke of the fire drifted about the garden.
Isabeau crossed the lawn to the fire, smiling and raising her hand in greeting to the witches who were all stretching in relief, stiff after the long night’s Ordeal. She put down her hand for Meghan and helped her to her feet, the old sorceress groaning as all her joints protested. She looked very gaunt beneath the curtain of snowy-white hair, her breasts hanging flat and pendulous over her ribs. Isabeau wrapped her hurriedly in her own plaid.
‘What are ye doing sitting up all night with no’ a stitch o’ clothing on!’ she scolded. ‘Ye’ll be catching your death o’ cold.’
‘And what kind o’ Keybearer would I be if I stayed in my bed for the vernal equinox!’ Meghan snapped. ‘I may be auld but I’ve no’ yet heard death’s bell, I’ll have ye ken, Beau!’ Suddenly she softened, kissing Isabeau’s brow. ‘Though the sight o’ ye stepping out o’ thin air was almost enough to make me die o’ shock! It was strange enough seeing the Celestines materialise that way, but ye!’
Isabeau felt a hand on her arm and turned to see Iseult standing beside her, smiling. As usual she was dressed very simply in white, with her red hair bound back at the nape of her neck and covered with a white linen cap. She carried a baby girl on her hip, a five-year-old boy clinging to her skirt. Behind her stood a fair-haired nursemaid with round, pink cheeks, another baby in her arms.
The twins embraced warmly. ‘Och, it is so good to see ye all!’ Isabeau cried.
‘But where did ye spring from?’ Iseult asked. ‘Ye seemed to step out o’ nowhere.’
‘I travelled the Auld Way,’ Isabeau replied.
They all stared at her in amazement and Lachlan turned sharply. ‘The Auld Way!’ he cried. ‘All the way from Tìrlethan?’
Isabeau nodded. ‘And I’m sick with weariness now and aching all over. I’ll be glad o’ a bed, I promise ye.’
‘But how do ye come to ken …?’ Meghan cried. ‘O’ course, your father.’ Isabeau nodded.
Lachlan came up behind his wife and said softly in her ear, ‘The Auld Ways! I wonder if they run to the Bright Land? We could save Dide and Enit a long and dangerous journey if they went that way instead o’ facing the danger o’ the seas, leannan.’
Iseult replied, just as low, ‘It’s a possibility at least.’
When Lachlan became aware of Isabeau’s curious regard, he turned away so she could not see his face but still she heard him mutter, ‘We’d best no’ speak o’ it here. Too many people. Later.’
Iseult nodded. She said to Isabeau with a smile, ‘Come and break your fast and tell us all your news while I have the servants make up a bed for ye. Ye look worn out.’
‘I feel worn out,’ Isabeau said with an attempt at a laugh. ‘That’s no’ something I’ll do again in a hurry.’
She helped Meghan put on her long white robe trimmed with silver to show her standing as the Keybearer of the Coven. The sorceress lifted out the talisman she wore around her neck so it hung outside her robe. Inscribed with runes of power, the Key was wrought in the shape of a six-sided star enclosed within a circle. To Isabeau’s trained witch senses, it seemed to thrum with power, giving off a smell like thunder-charged air. The sight and smell of it was enough to fill Isabeau with jealous longing. She had carried one third of the Key for five months, long enough for it to take hold of her heart and her imagination. Isabeau had to fight back the urge to snatch it from Meghan’s breast, and clenched her fingers into fists, her face schooled to impassivity. Meghan knew her thoughts, however, and frowned at her, one hand rising involuntarily to wrap around the magical talisman, hiding it from view.
Isabeau touched her arm in reassurance, and the stern look on Meghan’s face softened. The little donbeag Gitâ unrolled from his tight ball by the embers of the fire, stretched sleepily, then unfurled the little sails of skin between his paws and flew up to Meghan’s shoulder. With one paw on her ear, he chittered an excited welcome to Isabeau, who chittered back. The other witches were standing by to talk to the Keybearer so Isabeau left her side and turned back to Iseult, who was chatting to her nursemaid Sukey while Lachlan dressed.
Sukey was an old friend, so Isabeau greeted her warmly. ‘How are ye yourself? The twins are no’ running ye ragged?’
‘Aye, my lady, keeping me on my toes, as ye can imagine,’ the nursemaid replied ruefully. ‘I thought Donncan was as artful as a bagful o’ elven cats when he was a laddiekin, but Owein and Olwynne beat him hollow. Wee Olwynne may no’ have wings like the laddies but she’s swift as a snake and twice as cunning.’
Isabeau lifted the little girl from Iseult’s arms and cuddled her close. ‘This bonny lassie? I dinna believe it. She looks as if butter wouldna melt in her mouth.’
Olwynne stared at her with suspicious black eyes, then reached out one fat little hand, seized the owl’s talon hanging around Isabeau’s neck, and smiled blissfully.
‘Och, she’s a wicked wee lass but sweet as honey,’ Iseult laughed, tousling her daughter’s bronze-red curls.
‘It doesna seem fair that the two boys should have Lachlan’s wings but not wee Olwynne,’ Isabeau said. She glanced at Donncan, who was swooping around his father’s head, his wings the same burnished gold as his curls. Owein, as red-headed as his twin, was bouncing up and down on Sukey’s hip, his bronze-coloured wings spread and testing the air. All three children had the distinctive white lock of the MacCuinns springing from their brow, a sure sign that they had bonded with the Lodestar, the magical sphere that responded only to the hand of a MacCuinn.
‘Och, no doubt she’ll have Talents o’ her own,’ Meghan said, coming up beside them. She reached out one gnarled finger, hooting softly, and Buba rubbed her ear tufts against it, hooting back. ‘How can she no’ with two such Talented parents?’
They all began to walk down the garden, talking companionably. Behind Lachlan walked his squire, Dillon. Isabeau hardly recognised the sturdy, freckle-faced lad she had known in this tall, powerfully built young man. He was dressed in the blue kilt and jacket of the Rìgh’s own bodyguard, the plaid secured over his shoulder with a silver brooch depicting a charging stag. At his waist he wore a long sword with an intricately coiling hilt.
Behind them came the other witches, dressed now and their hair bound back as usual, with the Celestines all streaming behind them. The marks of their footsteps were dark in the dew-laden grass. The white-clad procession left the garden and plunged into the narrow hedge-lined corridors of the maze, the walls of yew high above their heads.
‘I see ye are newly scarred,’ Iseult said softly. ‘I would ask o’ you the story o’ your name.’
‘I will gladly tell it,’ Isabeau answered in the language of the Khan’cohbans, sweeping her fingers to her brow, then to her
heart, and then out to the tall yew hedge.
‘Wait until we are alone,’ Iseult said softly. ‘There are many listening ears in the palace.’
Isabeau nodded, casting her twin a quick glance.
A feast to celebrate the spring equinox had been set up in the great hall but to Isabeau’s relief she was not expected to sit down with a horde of strangers. Sukey took her up to the royal suite and fed her bannocks with bellfruit jam and told her amusing tales about the children until Iseult and Lachlan could escape and join her.
When she had eaten Isabeau curled up in a big chair by the fire to rest while Sukey put the twins to bed. Although Iseult had ordered a room to be prepared for her, Isabeau was eager to tell the story of her adventures and planned to wait for the others before seeking her own bed.
It was quiet and peaceful in the royal drawing room, however, and so Isabeau soon slipped into sleep. She was woken some time later by the soft murmur of voices. Her eyelashes fluttered open.
Meghan was sitting in the armchair opposite, her hands resting idle on Gitâ’s brown fur. Iseult had drawn up a chair beside her, while Lachlan was pacing up and down the room in his usual restless way, his kilt swinging.
‘It is so hard to ken what we should do first,’ Lachlan was saying. ‘We have spent all winter building a fleet o’ ships and now I am afraid to send them out in case they end up on the bottom o’ the ocean like every other ship that has left safe harbour these past ten years. The Ship Tax has been unpopular indeed and I canna risk all the money we raised going on naught.’
He paused to stand before the fire, lifting his kilt to warm his behind. Isabeau hastily shut her eyes.
‘And o’ course, everyone wants us to do something different,’ Lachlan continued. ‘Linley MacSeinn wants us to send the ships round to Carraig and win back the Tower o’ Sea-Singers from the Fairgean, the merchants want us to wipe out the pirates and keep the trade routes free from sea-serpents, and Iain and Elfrida want us to attack Bride. No matter what we do, someone is going to be unhappy. I just canna see my way clear, Meghan. Can ye no’ advise me?’
The sorceress stroked Gitâ’s fur, her face troubled.
‘Happen we should try and find out who it is that is betraying us,’ Iseult said, her voice very cold. ‘It be no point making plans if our enemies ken them as well as we do ourselves.’
Meghan sighed and Lachlan began to pace again. ‘I feel like a wounded sheep with a shriek o’ gravenings circling over me,’ he said then, his voice moody. ‘No matter what I do, I am beset by enemies on all sides. We cut off the head o’ one faction and it sprouts two more, like a harlequin-hydra …’
‘The harlequin-hydra. Symbol o’ insurmountable opposition,’ Meghan said softly. ‘Cut off one head and another two grow.’
Lachlan sat down heavily, his head in his hands.
‘Och, we shall just have to overcome the harlequin-hydra like your namesake, Lachlan the Navigator,’ the old sorceress said. ‘There is no point in falling into despair, lad. Iseult is right. If we discover who the spy in our ranks is, we may have a better chance in overcoming our other obstacles.’
Lachlan made an impatient gesture. ‘Do ye think we have no’ tried? Once we exiled Finlay, I thought we had done with spies and betrayers. Yet every time we move against the Bright Soldiers, they’re waiting for us. I’ve lost so many good men in their bloody ambushes! And as if that was no’ enough, every ship we send out has been lost because the blaygird pirates knew exactly what route we planned to sail. It’s uncanny!’
‘I ken all that,’ Meghan said, just as impatiently.
Lachlan got to his feet. He wandered around the room, fiddling with ornaments on the dresser, twitching aside the curtain and glancing outside, straightening a picture. Suddenly he came and sat back down again, looking directly at Isabeau. The colour rose in her cheeks.
‘So, ye’ve woken, Beau,’ he said. ‘Why do ye no’ tell us your news?’
Isabeau busied her hands by pulling at Buba’s ear tufts, though the owl grumbled sleepily in protest. ‘I hardly ken where to start, so much has happened.’
‘Tell us about the Auld Ways,’ Lachlan commanded, just as Iseult said, ‘Tell us your new name!’
‘Starting at the beginning is always a good idea,’ Meghan said.
It was far more difficult telling the story of her name-quest this time, because both Lachlan and Meghan interrupted constantly with questions and exclamations. When Isabeau finally reached the part where she changed shape, both leant forward, exclaiming with amazement. Lachlan was incredulous then excited, while Meghan’s whole face glowed with pride and satisfaction.
‘That’s all there is to tell,’ she said at last. ‘I could no’ fly down to Lucescere with Asrohc building her nest, so I made Dai-dein tell me how to travel the Auld Ways and came home that way.’
‘How did ye manage that?’ Iseult said wryly. ‘I canna imagine a warrior o’ the seven scars being made to do anything by a mere child.’
‘Child no longer,’ Isabeau cried, lifting her hand to trace her initiation scar.
‘Still,’ Iseult said.
Isabeau grinned. ‘I tricked him into it.’
‘But ye have no’ said much about the Auld Ways, Beau, only that Khan’gharad showed ye the way o’ it. Canna ye tell me more?’ Meghan asked.
Reluctantly Isabeau shook her head. ‘I am sworn to secrecy.’
Irritation flashed across Meghan’s face. ‘Surely, Beau, ye can tell me more than that. What are they? How do they work? Where do they run?’
With both Lachlan and Meghan’s imperious gazes focused intently upon her face, the colour rose high in Isabeau’s cheeks but she shook her head again. ‘I’m sorry, but I swore a sacred oath. I canna tell.’
‘What do ye mean, ye canna tell?’ Lachlan exclaimed. ‘Who is your loyalty to, Isabeau the Red?’
‘It is no’ my secret to tell,’ Isabeau protested, her cheeks scarlet. She glanced rather wildly at Meghan. ‘Why do ye no’ ask Cloudshadow if ye are so desperate to ken? She is the one to ask, no’ me.’
‘Cloudshadow will no’ tell me either,’ Meghan snapped. ‘I have begged her many times to reveal the secret to me but she never will.’
‘So how can ye ask me to?’ Isabeau cried. ‘It is a mystery o’ the Celestines and I have no right to ken it myself. Humans have betrayed Celestines before, ye ken that better than anyone, Meghan. Ye shouldna be asking me!’
‘Yet ye say yourself ye tricked your father into revealing the secret to ye,’ Lachlan said scornfully. ‘What right have ye to be so mealy-mouthed?’
‘Happen it could save us all from much danger and trouble if we could use the faeries’ roads,’ Iseult said persuasively. ‘Will ye no’ help us, Beau?’
‘I canna, I promised,’ Isabeau cried, tears very close to the surface.
‘Do ye no’ realise that your auld friend Dide may die because ye refuse to tell us!’ Lachlan bent over her, his dark face suffused with anger and frustration.
‘Why? Where is it that ye’re sending him? Ye said before a dangerous journey – what dangerous journey?’ Isabeau had to fight not to shrink back in her chair, intimidated by the great bulk of man bending over her, his burly neck and chest, his great black wings, all his strength and regal power.
To her surprise and relief he stepped back, dropping his gaze. Then he said sullenly, ‘How am I to ken ye can be trusted, Isabeau?’
Cut to the quick, Isabeau could only stare at him. He went on inexorably. ‘Why should I tell ye our most secret plans when ye will no’ tell us what ye ken? Ye were the one to befriend the Ensorcellor and offer her shelter. How do we ken she has no’ cast her charm over ye and compels ye to do her bidding?’
Iseult protested but Lachlan would not be stopped. He said loudly, with a cruel edge to his voice, ‘We ken the spy must be someone close to us, for they are privy to all our most secret plans. Who is to say it is no’ ye, Isabeau?’
Meghan cried, ‘That’s enough,
Lachlan!’ and Iseult leapt to her feet, her face white with anger. Isabeau said with a tremble in her voice, ‘But I have no’ been here.’
‘Nay, ye have no’, have ye?’ Lachlan replied coolly. ‘While we have been here fighting impossible odds ye have been off, safe in the mountains, riding dragons and playing with owls. We ask o’ ye just one wee thing, to tell us something that ye ken could help us enormously, and ye refuse to help.’
‘But I swore an oath,’ Isabeau said helplessly, tears rising in her eyes. Gitâ soared over to comfort her, chittering in distress, while Buba hooted softly and rubbed her head against Isabeau’s hand.
Iseult knelt next to her and took her hand, saying over her shoulder, ‘Lachlan, how can ye say such things? Ye ken Isabeau is loyal and true.’
‘Nay, I do no’,’ Lachlan answered, his angry colour beginning to fade. ‘I thought Finlay loyal and true, I thought all my men were. Now I can believe treachery o’ anyone. I meant what I said about Maya. Isabeau sheltered her for close on a year. We ken the cursehag has the strongest and most subtle compulsion o’ will o’ any witch we’ve ever kent. How can ye be sure Isabeau was no’ ensorcelled by her?’
To Isabeau’s dismay no-one said anything. She knew they were thinking of Latifa and Lachlan’s brother Jaspar, both of whom had succumbed to Maya’s charm despite their own strength. Isabeau pushed away Iseult’s hand and got to her feet, her vision so obscured by tears that she could hardly see straight. ‘I only sheltered Maya so I could break the curse she’d cast on ye,’ Isabeau said, knowing as she said this that it was not the entire truth. ‘I do no’ ken where she has gone or what she is doing now. I have had no communication with her since she left the secret valley. And even if I had, I would never do anything to betray ye or the Coven.’ Her voice broke.