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— was already too late before we set foot on the ship. We're running out of time. I can feel it. If we don't find what we seek here ..."
    What happens then? she wondered. Nothing? Everything? Are we set free by our failure, or are we doomed because we failed to find the answer that would have saved us? And how am I supposed to know the difference?
    "I'll be glad to get off the water," Shaela said. "The further south we've come, the more uneasy I feel."
    "I know," Merrill whispered. "I feel it too. Like something knows we're out here." Like there's a stain of evil on the water. It's not here, not yet, but it's getting closer. Whenever I enter that still place where the Light within me dwells, all I have to do is think about the sea, and the Light is diminished. Surely that's a warning.
    "Getting into port this early in the morning, we'll have the whole day," Shaela said. "If the girl can provide us with what we need quickly enough, we can be sailing home with the evening tide." She slanted a glance at Merrill. "Unless you want to stay overnight."
    "We won't be welcomed as guests," Merrill snapped, lashing out in response to the pain held in that truth.
    "No," Shaela said quietly, "we won't. We're going to hurt both of them by coming here." She lifted Merrill's left wrist.
    "Maybe you should have offered the bracelet as a gift instead of leaving it on a rock for a raven to snatch and take back to its nest."
    "It felt like the right thing to do," Merrill said, as troubled now by the impulse to leave the bracelet as an offering to ...
    something ... as she had been at the time she'd done it. But it wouldn't have been an appropriate gift since Brighid had given it to her in the first place. Had Shaela forgotten that? Or did she not realize what the return of a heart-friend's gift meant, that it was a permanent severing of a friendship?
    She turned away from Shaela, wishing the task was behind them instead of something yet to be faced.
    The ship anchored within easy distance of the cove's southern arm. The northern arm had wharves for merchant ships and fishing vessels; the southern arm grudgingly accommodated visitors. Piers jutted out from the land in such a way that rowed boats sent out from larger ships could discharge their passengers, but the stairs that connected the piers to the land above made use of what nature had provided, and the uneven lengths and heights of the steps were a punishment for anyone with a weak leg.
    Shaela said nothing as they climbed the stairs, but it was clear her bad leg wouldn't hold up to the strain if they had to scramble around a hillside with the girl.
    Maybe I could suggest she remain behind with Brighid, Merrill thought, slipping an arm companionably through Shaela's — an unspoken apology for being snappish earlier and unobtrusive support as they made their way to the stables where a horse and buggy could be rented for the day.
    She hadn't told the ship's captain the reason for this visit to Raven's Hill — or who she was visiting — but any man who sailed out of Atwater knew about Brighid — and why she no longer lived on the White Isle. So Merrill wasn't surprised when the men who had accompanied them as far as the stable didn't offer to go farther.
    After paying the stable fee, Merrill climbed into the buggy, collected the reins, and made sure Shaela was comfortably settled before giving the horse the command to move forward. The cottage was no more than a mile outside the village proper, nestled at the bottom of the hill. It was in the center of a modest acreage that could have provided the family with a respectable living if there had been more than a girl and a woman to work the land.
    She had visited twice before — once shortly after Brighid had settled into the cottage and again three years ago, when Brighid, on behalf of her niece, had requested that a Lady of Light come to Raven's Hill to test the girl.
    It had become clear in that brief meeting that becoming a Lady of Light