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Her face was red, but deterot to" She took a deep breath and squared her chin, looking like a Pekingese facing up to a lion

"Bree’s Marannie She kent Grannie’d been a--a--dancer"

"Dancer? What, you er felt faintly startled Claire had told him, when he’d first met her, but he had never quite believed it--not that the staid Mrs Grahareen hilltops in the May dawn

Fiona let out a long breath

"So ye do know I thought so"

"No, I don’t know All I knohat Claire--Dr Randall--toldin the stone circle one Beltane dawn, and your grannie was one of them"

Fiona shook her head

"Not just one o’ theer moved into the kitchen and took the dishcloth fro hand

"Co her to the table "And tell me, what’s a caller?"

"The one who calls down the sun" She sat, unresisting She hadto tell hi; some of the words are a bit like the Gaelic, but not all of it First we dance, in the circle, then the caller stops and faces the split stone, and--it’s no singing, really, but it’s no quite talking, either; in at just the right ht first shows over the sea, so just as ye finish, the sun coh the stone"

"Do you reer stirred briefly, curiosity rearing its head through his confusion

Fiona didn’t ave him a look that reminded him suddenly of Mrs Graham in its directness

"I know them all," she said "I’ open, and closed it She reached for the biscuit tin and plunked it in front of hih," she said matter-of-factly, "and so I won’t tell ye You want to know about Mrs Edgars"

Fiona had ht; Gillian had been one of the dancers, though quite a new one Gillian had asked questions of the older woer to learn all she could She’d wanted to learn the sun-song, too, but that was secret; only the caller and her successor had that Some of the older women would know so tiin and how to ti of the sun

Fiona paused, looking down at her folded hands

"It’s woot a part in it, and we do not tell theht to tell me, Fiona," he said, very softly "Tell ot to know"

She drew a deep, quivering breath and pulled her hand out from under his She looked directly at hione? Brianna?"

"I think so She’s gone where Gillian went, hasn’t she?"

Fiona didn’t reply, but went on looking at him The unreality of the situation swept over hi here, in the co tea fro sacred stones and tiht with Fiona Not Fiona, for God’s sake, whose interests were confined to Ernie and the doht He picked up the , drained it, and set it doith a soft thuo after her, Fiona--if I can Can I?"

She shook her head, clearly afraid

"I canna say It’s only woer’s hand clenched round the saltshaker That’s what he was afraid of--or one of the things he was afraid of

"Only one way to find out, isn’t there?" he said, outwardly casual In the back of his mind, unbidden, a tall cleft stone rose up black, stark as a threat against a soft dawn sky

"I have her wee book," Fiona blurted

"What--whose? Gillian’s? She wrote so?"

"Aye, she did There’s a place--" She darted a look at his there, ready beforehand She’d put the book there, and--and--I took it, after" After Gillian’s husband had been found ht she meant

"I kent the polis should maybe have it," Fiona went on, "but it--well, I didna like to give it to the? And I couldna keep it back if it was to be ier in a plea for understanding "It was her own book, ye see, her writing And if she’d left it in that place…"

"It was secret" Roger nodded