At the soft hint of dawn, magpies warbled mellifluously, and currawongs echoed through the scrub with their uniquely pleasant calls. I stirred in my warm swag, with the chill of night upon one side of my face and on the tip of my nose. With consciousness, came a sudden and awful remembrance of where I was. Before I arose, however, I overhead a startling conversation betwixt two very familiar voices.
“Dougal hear reason. The opal by rights belongs to my cousin’s next of kin.” I heard Cameron implore. “Tis nae bonnie lad’s trinket – tis the wealth of my ain family.”
Dougal answered in a soothing, but firm timbre. “Tis better we secure the lad first and consider the proper owner of the opal second.”
“Dougal, there’s nae disputing that. I just want to know whether I can count on ye when the
