Cillian the White sighed deeply. He removed his hand from the girl’s enlarged belly.

She really thinks it matters, he thought. They all think it does.

“It’ll be a boy,” said Cillian, straightening his healer’s robes.

“A prince?” cried the girl, her voice growing shrill with joy. “I’m going to have a little prince?”

“Yes,” said Cillian, trying hard not to roll his eyes. “You are due in another four moons.”

At this, she shrieked in joy again, as if she would even live half that long. “Oh, I can’t wait until Etain finds out I’ll be having the king’s son!”

“Of course,” muttered Cillian, turning away. He slowly strode across the clinic to his study. Taking a seat at the table, he picked up a quill and inked it. “Before you leave, remind me. What was your name again?”

“Nessa,” said the girl. “I never knew my parents, so I don’t have any other name than—”

“That’ll be all, Nessa,” cut in Cillian. “Please, close the door on your way out.”

The girl practically skipped from the clinic, humming a jolly tune as she went. Fool. She really had no idea. In any other circumstance, a healer would recommend medicines and schedule follow-up appointments to ensure a safe pregnancy.

“Shame,” muttered Cillian. He set the quill to the page and began scribbling.

Nessa, he wrote. Slender, with dark curly hair. Due in the first week of the Moon of Dana. Located in Madam Mac Cába’s establishment on Barrow’s Way.

He folded up the note without signing it. There was no need to elaborate more than that. The Wraiths never needed much information to get the job done.

***

Fionn’s eyes flashed open once more.

“What’s going on?” he muttered. It seemed much time had passed since he last woke. The writhing and moans around him had stopped, and the darkness that engulfed him had somehow grown even deeper.

He had seen the girl Nessa again, but this time, through the eyes of a healer named Cillian. Fionn strained to recall the details of the dream, or the vision, or whatever it was, when everything around him went dark once more.

A blue light shone.

***

Bronach Mac Cába burst into the girls’ chambers. Fortunately, Nessa herself was the only one sleeping there tonight.

“Wake up,” Bronach said, pulling the bedclothes off the girl. “You haven’t much time.”

Nessa looked up at Bronach with weary eyes.

“Madam Mac Cába, what’s going on?”

Gods above and below, thought Bronach, striding across the room to fetch an overcoat and boots for the poor girl. She really has no idea.

“You need to leave,” Bronach said. “There are men coming who want to hurt you. And hurt your baby.”

“No!” cried Nessa. “Not my prince! I won’t let them hurt him!”

“Good,” said Bronach, throwing the overcoat over Nessa.

I won’t let them take another one of my girls.

“Listen to me,” Bronach whispered. “There is a caravan leaving the city in an hour. I’ve spoken to the merchant, and he’ll take you far away. Once you leave the capital, you’ll be on your own. But safer than you are now.”

Nessa nodded and stood.

A knock thundered through the building.

“Go!” rasped Bronach. “Through the window. The caravan will be at the North Wall. Go!”

Nessa scrambled over the empty beds towards the open window. Without looking back, she darted out, leaving Bronach alone.

She waited there, for a moment, silently praying that Nessa would somehow leave the city, and somehow find a safe place far from the reach of the Church.

The door to the private chambers creaked open behind her, but Bronach did not turn around.

“You’re too late,” she said over her shoulder. “She’s long gone. You’ll have to kill me twice before I tell you anything.”

“That can be arranged,” croaked a wicked voice. A hand reached out for Bronach’s shoulder, pressing down hard and forcing her to turn. “The Lord is capable of far more than you can imagine.”

The last thing Bronach saw was the Wraith’s hooded figure, heavy dark robes revealing nothing but a twisted smile.

***

“Bronach… Nessa....” mused Fionn as he woke again. “Who are they?”

But before he could finish that thought, the pulsating blue light engulfed him once more.

***

On weary legs, Nessa stumbled across the road of a strange city. She had travelled through so many towns and slept in so many odd places she had long since lost count. The sky above roared with thunder as more rain pelted down upon her, but Nessa’s stride did not slow.

I’ve come so far, she thought, a hand placed over a stomach almost as heavy as herself. I’ll keep you safe, little prince.

Although the names of the places where she had travelled were lost to her, Nessa never stopped keeping track of the moon’s turn. If the sky was not covered in thick storm-clouds, the Moon of Dana would be shining down on her.

It’s almost time, she thought as she crossed a street so thick with rainwater it could have been mistaken as a river.

She stopped short once she saw what stood waiting for her across the way. The tall, slender figure stepped forward in silence, raising a single hand towards her.

“No!” Nessa cried. “You will not hurt him! He’s mine. He’s the king’s. Your king’s!”

“The child belongs to nobody but the Lord,” said the Wraith, hissing each word through his teeth. “And the Lord has been looking for you for quite some time.”

“My prince will be born soon,” sobbed Nessa, taking a step towards the ghostly figure. “He’ll grow to be a great leader, and he’ll hang your kind from their toes!”