Sinead swung the apothecary door wide, letting it slam noisily behind her.

“Goddess!” she heard Roisin cry, “was it a late one, Sinead?”

Roisin, the Ard’s apprentice, came plunging down the stone steps set into the roundhouse wall. It was rare for a building in the Bhail to have a second story, but the Ardshús was an exception in many ways.

The Ard eyed her apprentice. Judging by the copper thatch falling about your alabaster shoulders, Roisin, I’d guess you were frightened awake by the clattering door, thought the Ard. Good.

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