Page 59 of Highland Storm

“Nay!” she exclaimed. “I canna wait that long. My faither will die by then.”

“Then you’ll have to figure out a way to get to the island,” he told her. “It’s the only way. But you’ll have to do it soon, because the blooming season doesn’t last long for Common Centaury or Hart’s Tongue. Ye’ll need them both to cure yer faither.”

“I will find a way,” she told him, determined to help heal her father at any cost. “I will find a way to gather the plants and bring them back to Crookston Castle to heal my faither.”

“Even if you do find a way, Phoebe, I’m not sure you’ll be able to go back to the castle. You heard what Hawke said earlier. I have a feeling he is not going to let you out of his sight.”

Phoebe released a sigh and looked back once more at her siblings. She wanted to save her father but, at the same time, she’d always been like a mother to Elspeth, Agan and Miles. She didn’t want to let any of them down. She couldn’t do this alone. If she was going to accomplish these things, she was going to need help. Hawke’s help. And right now, she had the feeling he wasn’t going to be in a very generous mood.

A little while later, Hawke led the way into the MacKeefe camp, greeted happily by a dozen children who ran to meet him. They shouted excitedly and jumped up and down, all gathering around him.

“What did ye bring us, Hawke?” asked one little boy.

“I want a ride on yer horse,” said another.

“Hawke, we missed ye,” said one of the younger girls. “We’re so happy ye’re back.”

“Now, calm down, all of ye,” he said with a chuckle, dismounting and slipping his hand into his pouch. “I have somethin’ in my hand. Whoever can guess what it is can have it.”

“It’s a sweetmeat,” said one of the girls.

“Nay, it’s a flower,” said a teenage girl with red hair, blushing and looking to the ground.

“Och, dinna be silly,” said one of the boys. “He brought us a weapon.”

“A weapon?” Hawke laughed and held out his closed fist. “What weapon could fit in my closed hand, Finlay?”

“I ken, I ken. It’s a coin,” said a little boy with dark curly hair and rosy cheeks that was only about the age of Miles.

“Nay, Liam, it’s no’ that.” He bent down and held out his fist to the boy. “Think hard. What could I possibly fit in my hand?”

“I dinna ken,” said the little boy.

“It’s small,” Hawke told him. “It’s somethin’ from nature that sometimes gets stuck in yer shoe.”

“A rock?” asked the boy.

“Aye, lad. Ye got it. And this rock is very special.” He opened up his hand to show the children an oblong, smooth rock that looked like an egg.

“A rock?” asked Finlay, sounding disappointed. “What’s so special about a rock?”

“This isna just any rock. Gather around,” said Hawke, causing the children to move in closer. “The fairies of the hills say that this rock was once the egg of a powerful dragon.”

“A dragon?” Miles got out of the cart and ran over to join the children. Agan and Elspeth followed.

“The legend says that at night on the first full moon of the month, the rock turns back into a dragon’s egg. And if ye take guid care of it, it might even hatch.”

“Hatch?” asked Liam with wide eyes. “So I might have my very own dragon?”

“I want one,” cried Finlay.

“Me, too,” shouted another of the children.

“I’ll tell ye what,” said Hawke. “For now, Liam can carry it around, and tomorrow it will go to . . .” Hawke looked from face to face and all the children waited with bated breath. They all seemed so excited as they pushed forward eagerly. Miles and Phoebe’s sisters stood at the back of the group. No one talked to them “Tomorrow it goes to . . . Miles,” he said.

Miles’ head snapped up and he wet his lips with his tongue.

“Who?” asked one of the children.