Friday Friends – from The Vigil by Diane Morrison

He woke with a start. Glancing all around him, getting his bearings, he realized it was still dark, and most of his travelling companions still slept. Piper, with her mouth agape, was snoring and drooling, as usual. Above him, the sky was a canopy of brilliant starstuff. The Milky Way painted a brilliant stripe across the sky. In the distance, the wind was still blowing over the hollow pipes of the Ancients, like ghosts blowing on bottles.
His father was the one keeping the watch. Colin Walsh sat up on Emma’s carriage with his rifle across his lap. He nodded to Graeme when he saw him sit up.
Graeme crawled out of his bedroll and rubbed at his arms. Cold tonight, which wasn’t a surprise, considering how clear it was. He threw his duster and hat on, picked up his gunbelt, and climbed up to sit beside his father. “What…