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the unknown.
    Minutes later, Aine disembarked from the Beacon , accompanied by the captain and several crewmen. She surveyed the teeming dock quarter from the safety of the cloak’s voluminous hood. Thickly muscled men secured the vessels to the docks with heavy ropes; fishermen unloaded their catches; merchants transported chests and casks to and from their ships in oxcarts. Farther in, hawkers’ carts displayed their wares, from fish and produce to leather goods and cloth.
    At last, they stopped before a tiny inn, little more than a large thatched-roof cottage at the quiet end of a market street. Tantalizing scents wafted from a nearby bakery, and the soft whicker of horses came from a stable down the way. They were comforting details, familiar.
    Aine followed Mac Onaghan into the structure, where a balding man, about five-and-thirty, greeted them. “Cass, the room’s ready as you asked. Come with me.”
    “The room is for my young friend,” Cass told the innkeeper as they passed through the common room to the back corridor. “See that she isn’t disturbed. She’s had a difficult few days and could use the quiet.”
    The innkeeper glanced back at Aine. “She’ll take her meals in her room, then?”
    “Aye, thank you. And could Ingrid find her some clothing? I think she’s your daughter’s size.”
    “Sure thing, Cass. Will you be back later to check on her, or should I   —?”
    “I’ll be back at sundown.”
    Cass ushered her into the room and then quickly shut the door behind them. Aine dropped back her hood, taking her first easy breath since setting foot on shore. “You seem to be on good terms with the innkeeper.”
    “Alan is my nephew. You’ll be safe here alone, and nobody will disturb you. His wife, Ingrid, will see to your needs while I’m gone. I’ll check on you before I go back to the ship for the night. Will you be all right?”
    “Aye, I’ll be fine. Will you ask after the Resolute while you’re here?”
    “I will. Don’t get your hopes up, though. If you were bound for Fermaigh, no one here would have any reason to hear of it.” Cass opened the door and gave her a sympathetic smile. “Rest. I’ll be back later.”
    Only after the captain left and she latched the door behind him did she realize she was still wearing his cloak. Quickly, she unlocked the door again and poked her head into the empty corridor. Muted voices coaxed her toward the common room.
    “I need this message to go to Lord Riagain with all haste,” a man said in a low tone.
    Aine’s heart rose into her throat when she recognized the captain’s voice. Surely it wasn’t what it sounded like. He’d promised.
    “Are you sure about this, uncle?” Alan asked. “You know very well   —”
    “It isn’t as if we have a choice, and you know it. Just look after the girl until his men arrive. Make sure she doesn’t go anywhere. And don’t use the regular courier. Go to the Piper’s Gate. Their messengers ask fewer questions.”
    “I don’t like it, Cass. But I don’t want to anger Lord Riagain any more than you do.”
    Blood pounded in Aine’s ears. She backed slowly away fromthe doorway until she bumped into something solid behind her. A hand clapped over her mouth before she could scream.
    “Not a sound, or we’re both in trouble,” a heavily accented female voice said in her ear.
    Aine froze and then nodded. When the hand went away, she turned to find a tall blonde woman standing behind her.
    “Back to your room,” the woman whispered. “Quickly.”
    She dragged Aine down the corridor and then shoved her inside her room, shutting the door behind them. “You must leave now.”
    Aine stared at her. “Who are you?”
    “Ingrid. Alan’s wife. As soon as they send that message, Lord Riagain’s men will come for you. And if they take you to Brightwater, you will not leave.”
    For the second time in a handful of minutes, Aine felt as though the wind had been knocked out of her. “How long do