Belladonna
and living on the White Isle was Caitlin Marie's all-consuming dream and ambition. And it was just as painfully clear that something lived inside the girl that was at odds with that dream and ambition. Something that would not be welcome on the White Isle.
    The girl was as tainted as her brother. Some things came through the bloodlines and never could be washed away.
    Guardian of Light, cleanse my thoughts of such unkindness. The children cannot be blamed for their nature, and they have never used it for harm. But... I would not want one of their kind on the White Isle.
    "We're here," Shaela said when the cottage came into sight.
    As the horse's pace brought them closer and closer to success or failure, Merrill thought about those first two visits. Then, the hill looming behind the cottage had struck her as menacing, as if an ill-spoken word was all that was needed to bring the hillside down on the people living in its shadow. Now that same hill struck her as protective, as if it guarded something precious.
    Which impression was closer to the truth? Or had the strain of the journey turned her mind to fanciful imaginings?
    When they reached the cottage, Shaela climbed down and attached a lead to the horse's bridle, tying the other end to the hitching post. As Merrill secured the reins and set the brake, she caught the movement of a curtain falling back into place. A moment later, the cottage door opened, and Brighid, looking older and more careworn than Merrill had expected, stepped outside to greet them.
    "To what do we owe the pleasure of this visit?" Brighid asked with cold politeness.
    You know why we've come. Merrill searched Brighid's face but found no sign of welcome. And that sharpened her sadness over the necessity of coming here. They had been friends once, sisters in the joyous work of nurturing the Light. Now two children, especially the girl, stood between them.
    "We need your help," Merrill said. The girl suddenly appeared in the doorway, her blue eyes bright with hope when she caught sight of them. No, not a girl anymore. Eighteen now, wasn't she? A woman come into her power. Whatever it might be.
    Pretending she didn't see the hope, she kept her eyes fixed on Brighid. "We need Caitlin's help."
    "For what?" Brighid asked warily.
    So. Brighid was going to hold a grudge, wasn't going to bend even now.
    "There are two plants we need for a ... prayer ... circle. They do not grow on the White Isle. We thought Caitlin, with her skills, could acquire them for us."
    Hope burned away in Caitlin's eyes, replaced by bitterness. "So the Ladies of Light require the help of a sorceress."
    "That is not a word to be bandied about," Shaela said sharply.
    "Maybe not," Caitlin replied just as sharply, "but I want to hear her say it. She's so good at speaking the truth, let her speak it now."
    "I have a name," Merrill said.
    Brighid raised a hand, silencing Caitlin before the girl could reply. "What do you want?"
    We have no time for a battle of wills. Can't you feel it, Brighid? Evil is already drifting among us.
    "Heart's hope — and belladonna," Merrill replied.
    The small jerk of Brighid's body gave Merrill hope, but Caitlin's expression showed no sign of yielding.
    "Those plants don't grow around here," Caitlin said, as if that ended all possibility.
    "But there is a place nearby where unusual plants grow," Merrill insisted. "I could accompany you and help —"
    " You aren't welcome there."
    "Caitlin Marie!" Brighid turned on her niece. "I understand your disappointments and why a wounded heart makes for a bitter tongue, but that is no reason to forget your manners."
    "So they should get whatever they want from me just for the asking?"
    Girl and aunt stared at each other, and Merrill had the uneasy feeling they were no longer talking about plants.
    Then Brighid sighed and rested a hand against Caitlin's cheek. "No," she said. "You should get the Ladies what they need because I'm asking. And because this is more important than

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