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laughing. Laughing.
    Lana had nearly drowned once. She knew the terror of feeling the waters closing over her head, possessing her, claiming her. She knew the terror of struggling for something as simple as a breath.
    That these heartless boys were creating a similar fear in a small motherless waif, creating a lifetime of dread, incensed her. Ignoring her own terror, that clawing fear of water, she stormed to the shore and then, sucking in a deep breath, waded in. Icy ribbons twined in her veins, but she ignored them, pressing deeper and deeper. It was summer. The water wasn’t frigid. There was no ice to break through. No chance that she would collapse into the dark maw of the loch.
    She tried to remind herself of this.
    â€œJohn Robin,” she bellowed, allowing her ire to warm her blood, consume the fear. “What do you think yer doing?”
    The boy froze and whipped around. Mercifully, he released his hold on Fiona and she burst through to the surface, gasping for air. Lana grabbed her and hefted her up, holding her in her arms as she glared at the miscreant. The other boys, who had been egging him on, scattered.
    When John Robin whirled to flee as well, Lana caught him by the scruff. Nae. He wouldn’t escape her wrath. Not until she’d lashed him well and good with her tongue. “What on earth were you thinking?” she snarled.
    The boy glared at her, a smirk on his too-young face. “Let me go,” he muttered, trying to jerk free.
    She leaned closer, allowing her anger to rage at full force. “What would your mother think of this?” she hissed.
    John Robin’s eyes widened. His nostrils flared. Trepidation flickered across his face. For once, Lana was glad her gift disturbed people. Someone needed to put the fear of God into this boy.
    â€œM-my mother is dead,” he burbled.
    â€œDo you no’ think she watches over you? Do you no’ think she sees everything you do?”
    John Robin’s lips flapped.
    â€œFor shame, John Robin. Frightening a puir wee thing like Fiona. Do you no’ think she’s had enough fear in her life? Enough heartbreak?” Lana held her closer; the mite wrapped her arms around Lana’s neck and clung. “Mercy’s sake, the two of you have suffered too much. Doona make matters worse.”
    â€œI was just playing with her.” Dear lord. Did he really think this was a game?
    â€œYe could have killed her.”
    â€œI dinna—”
    â€œNae. Because I came,” Lana spat as she carried Fiona from the loch. She tried to set her down, but the girl would not let go. “How would you feel if you had done her real harm? Is that a weight you want on your soul?”
    To his credit, he paled and then his cheeks pinkened. He appeared contrite, but that wasn’t nearly enough.
    Lana leaned in and caught his gaze. “If I ever, ever hear of you tormenting this lass again, you will have me to deal with. Do you understand?” She attempted to make her tone as menacing as she could, and she was pleased with the result. The boy gaped at her; he looked as though he might faint. “Do you?”
    â€œAye. Aye.” He shot a look at Fiona and then one at Lana, and then he turned tail and ran back to the castle.
    Lana sighed and tightened her hold on the girl. “I am verra sorry that happened to you, my wee darling,” she said, scraping the wet hair from her tiny face.
    â€œTh-thank you,” Fiona said, clinging tighter.
    â€œMy puir thing.” She rubbed a shivering shoulder. “Shall we go change our clothes?” Lana asked. “Something dry perhaps?”
    Fiona nodded. She nibbled her lip. “Wh-why do boys have to b-be so mean?” she asked as Lana headed for the castle.
    â€œAch, they’re not all mean. And the ones that are, are usually afraid. The meanness is their way of dealing with it.”
    â€œA-afraid?”
    â€œAye. Afraid of being alone. Afraid of