in equal measure self-loathing, were with him constantly. He returned to the stone again and again, but he could not find his way back to her village or to the cottage. Frustrated and impatient he found himself sobbing out loud as he raced back and forth amongst the trees. But every time the hillside was empty save for the occasional herd of deer grazing on the lower slopes, and thwarted he had to go home to a lonely, unenthusiastic supper and a cold bed where he dreamed of her again, shame-facedly scrubbing the treacherous signs from his pyjamas with his handkerchief so that Jeannie wouldn’t see when she did the washing.
Broichan sat for a long time staring down into the embers of the fire. Beside him Gemma and Brid had watched as he consulted first the streaming clouds, pink and gold from the setting sun, then the fall of the ogham sticks which he kept in a bag at his waist, and finally the deep red stone set in gold which hung from a cord around his neck. Now at last, the auguries clear, he raised his head.
‘Brid.’
The two women jumped. Gartnait was not with them. He had departed earlier with his bow to hunt.
An imperious finger decorated with a carved agate ring beckoned Brid to her feet. ‘It is decided. You will return to Craig Phádraig with me. We ride at dawn.’
‘No!’ Brid’s cry of anguish echoed above the sound of water from the burn and the crackle of the dying fire, and spiralled up towards the clouds.
Broichan rose to his feet. He was taller than her by several hand-spans and his eyes were like flint. ‘You will obey, Niece. Pack your belongings now, before we sleep.’
‘Mama –’ Brid threw an imploring look at Gemma but her mother refused to meet her eye.
‘You must do as my brother says, Brid.’ Gemma’s voice, when she spoke at last, was shaking.
‘I will not go!’ Brid’s face reflected livid colour from the dying sun. ‘You cannot make me. I have power too.’ She drew herself up to her full height and held Broichan’s gaze. ‘I can bind the storms, and I can ride the wind. I can hunt with the wildcat and run with the deer. I can catch and keep a man!’ She veiled her gaze hastily. She must not let him read her thoughts, must not let him know about Adam.
Broichan stared at her thoughtfully. There was something like a small sardonic twitch of humour in his eyes as he held out his hand and without seeming to move caught hold of her wrist. ‘So, little cat, you think you can duel with me,’ he murmured. ‘Such confidence, such foolishness.’ He seized her chin in his other hand and forced her face close to his, his eyes boring into hers. ‘Peace, little wild one. You are my servant and you will obey me.’ He reached for the translucent red stone ball in its golden setting and held it for a moment before her eyes. In seconds the eyelids began to close and she became still.
‘So.’ Broichan pushed her towards her mother. ‘Put her to bed, then pack her bag. I will take her tomorrow at first light. She shall ride in her sleep across the saddle like a bag of oats and at Craig Phádraig if she disobeys me I shall chain her by the neck like a slave.’ He turned the full force of his gaze on Gemma’s terrified face. ‘I do not allow disobedience, Sister, from any of my family. Ever.’
Adam had finally given up all hope of seeing Brid again when he met Gartnait on the mountain. He followed Brid’s brother and stood watching as he stooped and, picking up his chisel, squatted at the foot of the stone to work on a curved design. It was, Adam saw suddenly, a graceful, very realistic serpent.
‘You must go back.’ Gartnait spoke without looking up at him. Both he and Gemma could remember some of the English they had learned.
‘Why?’ Adam was suddenly tongue-tied with embarrassment.
‘It is not safe. You will be seen. Brid was careless.’
‘Why is it so wrong for me to be here with you?’
Gartnait glanced up at him. His tanned, weather-beaten face was dusty from the stone chippings, his strong hands callused but gentle on his tools. He leaned forward to blow at the work and rubbed at it with his thumb.
‘Your father serves the gods. That is how you found the way.’
Adam frowned. ‘There is only one God, Gartnait.’
The young man squinted at him and then down at his handiwork. ‘The Jesus god? His followers say there is only one god. Is it he your father serves?’
‘Jesus, yes.’ Adam was uncomfortable. Jesus and Brid – or Brid’s brother – were incompatible.
‘Yet how can you believe this when all around you the gods are there? Brid told me you and she saw the Lady in the waterfall.’
Adam blushed to the roots of his hair. Surely Brid would not have told her brother what had happened between them? ‘It is what we are taught. Only one God,’ he repeated stubbornly.
‘And yet you have been taught the way. How to walk between our world and yours.’ Gartnait leaned closer to the stone again, the tip of his tongue protruding between his teeth as he concentrated on an intricate corner, lifting the hard stone with his sharpened blade as though it were a flake of mud.
‘No one taught me to come here.’ Adam frowned. ‘I found it by myself. Though sometimes I can’t find the way – I don’t know why.’ He was feeling more and more uncomfortable.
Gartnait sat back on his heels. He stared at Adam thoughtfully. ‘That is because the way is not always open,’ he said at last. ‘It has to be taken when the time is right. The moon, the stars, the north wind. They must all be in the right place.’ He smiled gravely and changed the subject abruptly. ‘Brid likes you.’
Adam blushed again. ‘I like her.’ He turned slightly to stare back down the hillside. ‘Where is she?’ he asked as casually as he could.
‘She has gone to work with our uncle. He is teaching her.’
Adam felt a sharp pang of disappointment – and fear. ‘I was hoping to see her. How long will she be working for him?’
‘Many years. Nineteen.’ Gartnait gave another of his slow smiles. ‘But I will tell her you came.’ He looked up again. ‘A-dam, do not go to look for her. She has gone to Craig Phádraig. You cannot find her. Do not try. And she must not try to see you either. It is not allowed. Broichan would kill her if he knew she had been with you. He will not allow anyone to travel between our worlds as you have travelled. It is only for the few. And she is not for you, A-dam.’ He hesitated as though wondering whether to speak further. ‘Brid is dangerous, A-dam. I who love her, say that. Do not let her hurt you.’ He struggled to find the right words. ‘She studies the ways of the wildcat. Her claws can kill. If you see her again she will surely, in the end, bring death. Death to you and to me and to Gemma.’
‘I don’t understand.’ Adam’s bitter disappointment was edged with fear. ‘Why can’t I see her? Why can’t I travel here? What is so wrong?’ He concentrated on the one piece of Gartnait’s statement he truly understood. ‘I bet you’ve been down to the village where I live.’
Gartnait gave a sudden snort. His eyes were humorous slits of silver and he looked for a moment very like his sister. ‘I went once. Only on the hill. I do not have your courage. I did not go down.’
‘Well, can I at least go and see your mother?’ Adam fought back the misery which was threatening to overwhelm him. ‘I want
