When they were behind the wooden barricade once more, the warriors dispersed at Colin’s command. Colin and Finn returned to Colin’s tent, which served as the camp’s headquarters, their brows drawn together and their voices low as they discussed their options.

Helena and Logan peeled away, winding through the mazelike camp in silence. When at last they were safely back to their tent, Logan could stay his impatience no longer.

“What is yer plan, Helena?” he asked, stopping her before she ducked under the canvas flap. “And why are yer eyes filled with fear?”

She looked up at him, then her gaze darted to their surroundings. Scottish soldiers continued to mill around the camp, some sharpening their swords, some moving between the tents, and others gathered around fires despite the persistent drizzle.

“I can’t speak here,” she whispered, though none of the men nearby seemed to be paying them any attention.

Poking his head into the tent, Logan found Mairin resting on her cot, her back turned to the tent’s entrance.

“Come with me,” he said, taking Helena’s hand.

He guided her west, through the sea of tents and men, until they reached the edge of the camp. But he did not stop there. He continued on across the open land that was kept clear around the castle so that men could not lurk under the cover of the trees. When at last they stepped under the bare-branched oaks and spreading Scots pine boughs, he halted.

The only sound was the soft murmur of rain against the branches and clumps of pine needles overhead. Before them, the castle sat imposing and dark like a sleeping stone giant. The swarming activity of the army surrounding it made Logan’s heart sink. How could such tiny men, even so many of them, ever hope to breach such a large, well-fortified castle?

If they were to avoid waiting until all those inside the castle had starved to death, their only hope lay with Helena and her mysterious plan.

He turned to find her chewing on her lip, her dark brows drawn together as she stared at the castle.

“What is it, love?” he asked gently.

“My family kept many secrets,” she said, her gaze still fixed on Craigmoor.

“About yer visions?” he probed.

“Aye. And about other things as well.”

He waited, sensing that she needed time to sort the emotions swirling in the vivid green depths of her eyes.

“It wasn’t easy at first—coming here from England at the order of a distant King, claiming rulership over the people and land. Even before we had gotten truly settled, I had my first vision and then my mother was dead.”

Logan slipped a hand beneath her cloak and let his palm rest on her back.

“My father was a cautious, guarded man—until the end, when the fever stole his mind,” she said. “Even when the Scottish residents of Craigmoor and the surrounding lands began to warm to us, he was careful to see to our protection should the need arise for us to defend against an uprising or attack.”

Logan felt his brow furrow. What was Helena circling? He rubbed his hand against the small of her back, silently encouraging her on.

“My father, and later my brother, taught me not to trust others,” she continued, her eyes turning sad. “Though we were fortunate to earn the respect of those under our care, that lesson—not to trust—was the common thread woven throughout my life.”

She swallowed, her voice growing tight. “I was never to speak of my visions, for fear that even those who’d come to feel genuine warmth toward me and my family would turn on us. It was why my brother taught me how to defend myself—it was based on fear, and distrust in those who’d sworn to protect me.”

Helena snorted softly. “Being raised to be distrustful was probably why I refused Geoffrey’s proposals so many times. Something about him always felt…off, and if I was not allowed to fully trust and confide in Ida, who was practically a second mother to me, how was I to trust a man like Geoffrey?”

“I didnae realize just how greatly yer family guarded its trust. It makes the gift of yer faith in me all the more precious,” he said, his voice low.

She turned to him then, her eyes brimming with a storm of emotion. “You have shown me that I need not live in fear of trusting,” she murmured. “Which is why I need to tell you something.”

Logan’s stomach pinched in anticipation. “What is it?”

“You never asked me how I escaped the castle when I fled to the Highlands. The gate was closed, the drawbridge over the moat raised, and the walls lined with men loyal to Geoffrey.”

“I—” Logan froze, his lips pursing. “Ye’re right.” Realization prickled in the back of his mind. “There must have been…”

“A secret passageway,” Helena finished. She held his gaze, her eyes filled with uncertainty—and hope that she could trust him with this. “My father swore my brother and me to secrecy about the tunnels. He discovered them after my mother’s passing, so we were the only three who knew of their existence—besides the previous keeper of the castle, who died when it was claimed by the English twelve years past.”

Logan let this sink in. Hidden passageways and tunnels were built into many castles, but their whereabouts—and even their existence—was a thing of utmost secrecy.

It made sense to guard such information closely. Passages could be used as a last resort for a ruling family to escape. Their lives would depend on no one else knowing about them. But far more terrifying to those holding a castle, if knowledge of a network of tunnels spread, it could be used by an invading army to infiltrate even the most well-fortified keep.

The wheels in his mind sped. “Does Geoffrey know how ye escaped the castle?”

“Nay,” she replied. “My father kept the secret, even on his deathbed. He told me to use the tunnels if ever we were attacked and there was no hope of victory. When Geoffrey beat me, and then I saw him name me a witch and have me burned in my vision, I knew what I had to do. But Geoffrey would have no way of knowing where the tunnels began and ended, or even of their existence.”

Logan gripped Helena’s shoulders then, turning her fully to face him. He held her with a penetrating stare.

“Are ye saying what I think ye’re saying, Helena? Are ye telling me this because ye wish for me to use the tunnels to break into the castle and end this siege?”

“Nay,” she said, surprising him. She met his gaze squarely and went on. “You will not be using the tunnels. I will.”