Page 33 of Tair

Lucy walked away from the arch and went out into the gardens to sit and think. She needed proof of what she’d heard before she confronted Tair about this game he and his people had been playing with her. It might work more to her advantage to say nothing for now. She might be able to find out on her own why they wanted outsiders to believe they were like this.

Who am I kidding? I can’t even find the cluet.

She had spent the last several days searching through the stronghold for places where the enchanted treasure might be concealed. Lochran advised her on where to look, but his day blindness made it impossible for him to help her. Sgathan she already didn’t trust, and he was probably the mastermind of this ruse that the maids had mentioned. Lucy simply avoided Dorchad and Cath because they’d make her too nervous to focus.

I’m on my own. That’s the first problem to solve, too.

Since she didn’t want to go to the laird to request more manpower, she decided to see if any of the maids who worked for Ronan could be spared.

“Take Garia,” the cook told her when she went back into the kitchens after breakfast to ask him. “She’s mostly idle, for she attends only to you. She cannae work after donning unwashed garms and strewing herself with ash.” He then grimaced.

“You know she’s doing that on purpose to make me think she’s manky?” When he shrugged she threw up her hands. “No matter how dirty they are, I’m staying. Please tell your girls to wash up, do their laundry and stop pretending to be covered in vermin. After Garia does, have her meet me in the watch tower.”

Lucy had thought long and hard about where the clever treasure might hide itself, and her first thought was the Night Watch’s quarters. Lochran couldn’t see during the day when he worked at his carvings, and at night he was busy overseeing the castle’s defenses. Today, however, she found his steward Ninian waiting outside the door.

"You cannae go in, Mistress,” Ninian told her. “The Night Watch sleeps until mid-day.”

“I didn’t think about that.” Of course he slept in the mornings; he had to work all night. “Would you ask him when he wakes up if I can search his room later?”

The steward nodded, and then frowned past her. “You’re no’ wanted here, wench.”

“Oh, shut it, Nini. Mistress bid me come.” A much cleaner looking Garia grinned at Lucy, with both of her eyes appearing wide and functioning. She also carried a bag that was glowing with blue and amber lights. “How may I serve?”

She decided to draw on the girl’s superior knowledge. “If you wanted to hide something in the castle, where would you put it?”

“Down the privy.” Garia laughed at herself. “Well-wrapped in plenty of oilcloth, no one should see or filch it. Unless ’tis food. Food I’d carry in pouches under my skirts.”

The thought of hiding anything in the castle’s toilets made Lucy’s breakfast form a solid lump in her belly.

“Let’s rule out those two places,” she told the maid. “Is there anywhere else that’s secluded and no one likes to go near?”

Garia thought for a moment. “The old spence, mayhap. All the maids reckon ’tis haunted by the caoineag.”

“Is this another thing that’s supposed to scare me off the island?” Lucy demanded.

“No, my lady. ’Tis a ghaist of the cook who ended herself after losing her only lad in the Battle of Embo. ’Twas just after the clan built Gealladh.” Garia told her. “When death shadows the island, her spirit wails all the night long.”

Lucy didn’t believe in ghosts. “Let’s begin with the spence, then.”

The maid led her downstairs and toward the back of the castle, and then outside to the inner bailey, where several decrepit outbuildings stood.

“The auld kitchens,” Garia told her, nodding at the largest structure. “Cook couldnae get the meals to the men still hot, so the laird built new kitchens just off the great hall.” She gestured toward a smaller, neglected-looking shack toward the back. “That, ’tis the spence.”

As soon as Lucy stepped inside the lingering smell of something acrid and burned made her frown. “What is that stench?”

“Some of the maids made a fire of juniper branches, hoping it would drive out the caoineag,” the maid said, pinching her nose as she opened the bag she carried and took out a glass sphere filled with the amber and blue glow. They cast a soft greenish light everywhere around them, revealing walls lined with shelves of old sacks, crockery, bowls, jugs and other kitchen wares.

“The laird has those things in his private room behind the hall,” Lucy said as Garia released it, and it floated toward her. “Can I touch it?”

“Aye, my lady. ’Tisnae hot or even warm,” the maid assured her. “They’re magic light. We use them where we cannae light candles, lamps or a hearth fire.”

“But what are they?” When the other woman shrugged she caught the sphere, which glowed even brighter at her touch. She held it up to examine it, and saw the thousands of tiny facets on the inside of the ball glitter as they amplified the light. “This isn’t made of glass. It’s crystal.”

“I cannae tell you,” Garia said, grimacing. “Shall we begin?”

Lucy released the sphere, which floated lazily away, and went with the maid to start looking through the crockery on the nearest shelf. A cloud of dust soon enveloped them, sending them both outside to cough and sneeze.

“The lives I could change here with a hoover.” She wiped her face with the edge of her shirt. “Why is it so dusty?”