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met neither. She had not even met Stephan Sincai, though she could not have said that would be
unwelcome. Even as she had tended her uncle today, and managed to avoid Erich, Mr. Sincai had crept
into her thoughts. Why had a man who looked so impassive helped her, not once but twice?
It did not matter. She would not meet him again. And he could not save her from what she feared most
now. All she could hope was that her uncle would recover enough to let her broach the subject of
refusing Erich, and that he would send Erich packing. That might only be a reprieve for her sanity, but she
needed that reprieve.
It was good to be back in her refuge again tonight. It always amazed her that other people were
frightened of caves. Somewhere close she could hear the drip of water growing stalactites and
stalagmites, and farther away a small stream gurgled on its way through the cavern, but other than that it
was quiet.- The cave demanded quiet in return. Sounds were punished with echoes. The cave room she
had chosen for her own had a ceiling which disappeared into the gloom beyond the reach of her candles.
It was closed at one end except for the crevice that disgorged the stream and the opening at the other
end was only big enough for her to duck through, but there was also an opening in the rock to some
honeycomb channel above. That meant a fire could warm the space, and yet the smoke was drawn out.
Her army of candles, the fire, and her torch made the cave almost inviting. The floor was coated with soft
sand, comfortable for sitting on a quilt, and Malmsy's crocheted pillow made a fine back rest against a
large rock. This was her cocoon.
She yawned. Sleep had been elusive what with worry over her uncle, anger at the vile Erich, and those
dreams about touching Sincai& They were pervasive tonight. So she had put on a cloak and half-boots
and, with her nightdress and hair down, fled to the cave. She'd have to go soon lest she fall asleep and
fail to return before the servants rose. No one must know she could still escape her nursery.
She didn't want to return. Her house had been invaded by the enemy. But she couldn't abandon her
uncle.
With a sigh, she closed her book and made a move to go.
Stephan stumbled from the open door of Bucklands Lodge. His chest heaved for breath. One had gotten
away. The one he'd surprised in the forest. He hadn't gotten them all. That meant he'd failed. He
staggered across the small garden. His boots squelched with his own blood. The smell of blood was
everywhere; his, theirs. There had been five. He had barely been a match for four. They'd come after him
before he could prepare. He hadn't been able to use the full power the Daughters had taught him at
Mirso. He'd had to fight them, and that distracted him. Failed. He'd failed. Pain drenched him. Safe. He
needed somewhere safe to heal. It might take a while. His vision blurred. He shook his head. He couldn't
lose consciousness, not before he found refuge. Where? He couldn't go to the tavern, spreading blood
for which later there would be no wounds of explanation.
Quiet. Secret. That's what he needed.
He knew where.
With his last strength he called to the one who shared his blood. Companion, he thought, lend me your
power one more time tonight. A red film descended on the world bit by bit. He felt the darkness
gather, slowly, around him. Companion!
As the blackness whirled around him, his vision went from red to black. The pain from his wounds was
joined by the exquisite pain of the power ramping up past endurance. Then he knew no more.
Ann was gathering her cloak around her and about to blow out the candles when she heard a growing
hum behind her. She jerked around, startled by the unfamiliar noise. There, by the doorway to the cave,
a whirling darkness grew out of nothing. Ann gasped. What was that?
The darkness melted away, leaving the figure of Stephan Sincai. She put her hand to her mouth to stifle a
cry. He was covered with blood. Horrible wounds gaped over his body. He took one step, then his eyes
rolled up into his head and his knees buckled. He fell to the sandy floor.
Ann heard a small sound like a frightened animal would make and realized it came from her own throat.
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