“They…” Thomas stopped, his eyes going to Shamus. The raw-boned man looked shaken, and his face was bleak. Thomas had no idea how much the man knew, or how much to say in front of him. “They were after something.”
“After something?” Ailbe’s words came out half-strangled, and the short, harsh laugh that followed them had a note of hysteria. “What did he have that was worth anything? He was a travelling performer! He had his wagon and the shirt on his back!”
“He…uh,” Thomas wished desperately for a drink to put the moisture back in his mouth. “He said your name.”
“My name?” Ailbe sounded confused. “When?”
“At the end.”
Thomas could see Ailbe’s body crumbling in on itself, though her face was still in shadow. She began sobbing, her shoulders shaking hard. “Oh!” the sound hurled itself ou
