Kern watches as the Druid makes introduction to the young healers, and then comes up around the three fishwives to stand behind the young girl. “If ye don’t mind, Sia, I’d like t’speak w’this fair maid a moment.”

The child looks at the older woman, who nods, and then tells Kern, “I don’t see a thing, messenger, but have her back quick afore her Mam comes a’lookin’ for her. You know how Brighid is.”

“Quick as a lark, me poppy.”

The child smiles, stands and takes Kern’s hand. “Come, Kern, the Lough is peaceful on this side.”

She leads him over to the far side of the crannog, and drops her legs over the side, not quite dangling into the water. Kern removes his ragged soles and the fabric that’s wrapped around his feet, and mimics her, dipping his long feet into the cool water.

He smiles at the girl through craggly teeth, then takes a small object from his vest pocket. “The Lady Siobhan asked me to give this to you.”

The girl stares out into the Lough without even glancing Kern’s direction. “Mam says I mustn’t accept gifts from the Lady.”

“How can she…” To refuse a gift from the Lady, who does the woman think she is? “No, lass, ye musn’t say no. Yer Mam just dinna have to know abou’ tit. Here now…’tis small enu t’hide. Take it now.”

The girl finally looks at the object and gasps to Kern’s satisfaction. It is just a small whistle or a flute, but it has been painstakingly carved from bone, the image of a deer inlaid into it, its eye matching one of the small blowholes.

As she takes it in her little fingers, Kern says, “The Lady says that every time ye blow it, yer guardian spirit knows where t’find ye.”