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me, making my heart jolt with fright. I drew a shaky breath and turned to see him heading off towards a door at the other end of the garden, an entry direct into the most substantial of the buildings backing onto the fortress wall. Despite his height and strong build, the man’s gait was markedly uneven, and the odd slope of his shoulders was quite pronounced. Warped and twisted like thread gone awry on the loom. If that had been Anluan, neither of us had made a good first impression.
    As I’d been told to wait, I waited, but not inside the forbidden area. I collected my belongings and went to stand just beyond the archway, one eye out for any further oddities.That was where Magnus found me a little later. He had shed his weaponry but still made a formidable figure with his twists of hair, his broad shoulders and well-muscled arms. One of the gallóglaigh ,Tomas had called him.They were mercenary warriors, islanders descended from Norsemen and Dalriadans. I wondered how this one had ended up at Whistling Tor.
    “A scribe,” the big man said flatly, fixing shrewd gray eyes on my face, which no doubt was unusually pale. “How did you know about the work we needed done?”
    “I’m sorry if I’ve upset anyone,” I said. “My name is Caitrin, daughter of Berach. I stayed last night at the village inn. I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation with Tomas.”
    His gaze had sharpened as I spoke. “I’m told you were attempting to steal a precious plant from our garden,” he said.“That’s not the act of someone who’s seeking employment.”
    “I told that man I wasn’t stealing! If you’re talking about heart’s blood, the time to steal it would be autumn, when it’s flowering.The value’s all in the blooms. For the ink, you know.”
    There was a moment’s silence; then Magnus’s strong features creased into a smile. He looked like a man who didn’t smile much.“All right, maybe you are a scribe,” he said. “That doesn’t explain how you got here.”
    “I walked. I did lose my way, but a man helped me. A man with a dog. Olcan and Fianchu.”
    Magnus’s eyes widened.
    “As you see, I got here safely,” I added.
    “Mm. No fear of dogs, then. Well, I’ve been ordered to take you indoors, and I imagine he’ll want a sample of your writing.This way.”
    “I’m not sure I want to stay.That was him in the garden, wasn’t it? Lord Anluan? He scared me. He was so angry.”
    “You look cold,” Magnus said. “My name’s Magnus. I do everything here, more or less. Steward, guard, farmer, cook, cleaner . . . You may as well come in and have something to drink, since you’ve got this far. Don’t let Anluan upset you. He’s not used to folk, that’s all. We’re a bit out of practice.”
    I drew a deep, unsteady breath. His manner was reassuring: blunt but kind. He seemed the sort of man who would be truthful.“All right,” I said. “If you’re sure it’s safe. There are some very odd-looking folk here. Not that looks should matter, but . . .”
    “I’ll take that for you,” said Magnus, pointing to my bag. I passed it to him and we headed along the path.“If you’re planning on staying to do the job, you’ll need to learn not to let appearances upset you,” my companion added. “We’re all oddities here.”
    “The folk in the settlement said you were the most ordinary person on the hill.”
    Magnus gave a short, mirthless laugh. “Ordinary, what’s that?” he said grimly. “As it is, you may not be here long enough to meet us all. Once you see the job he wants doing, you’ll very likely change your mind. Anyway, you may not be up to the standard he requires.”
    “I was trained by the best.”
    “Then you’ve nothing to worry about, have you?” Now he sounded amused. “There’s one thing you need to remember.”
    “Oh?” I fully expected the kind of instructions people got in dark tales;Whistling Tor seemed just the place for them. Don’t touch the little key third