Thomas looked out over the sun-dappled loch and took a deep breath, allowing the peace of the early evening to fill him. The beauty of this place was a bulwark against the fears that haunted him. Not for the first time, he reflected that Fee’s holding must have suited his father well. Even in a land of remote and rugged beauty, this place seemed untouched by human hands: a tiny, tucked-away corner that could hide a solitary Fey with little difficulty. Thomas thought Matthew must have found some peace here; at least he prayed it might be so.
Ripples touched the smooth surface of the loch, where the fish were rising to feast off the dragonflies and other insects that skimmed across the water. Occasionally, a bright flash of scales and water would glint in the sun as a fish leapt to catch
