Shadow Dance

Chapter 9

"She ...escaped?"

Calastian Ambassador Deantor looks at His Most Gracious Host, High Minister Fratreli, and controls his face. Though the Minister's tone gave the impression of mere curiosity, and perhaps wonder at the unlikelihood of such an event, there was clearly amusement in his eyes. A candor which suggests he was not only aware of this fact, but instrumental in this situation.

"She was taken." he corrects the Minister with a slight bow of his head.

What makes politics so difficult is the levels of communication. Shelzari were complicated. Not nearly as complicated as the Elf races, but for humans they were complicated. Intonation, facial expressions, body language, and even the pauses between words could communicate vastly different meanings. A common joke in Calastian courts was that a Shelzari could not talk if he could not move.

"This is unfortunate and a puzzle to be sure. Here I have said I will remove the embassy if the girl is not released to my custody, and you are here to tell me you would gladly do so, if you only had her. An interesting dilemma." Fratreli sips his wine and gazes at a painting on the wall to his left, near the other side of the room. A fine oil of Enkili, on a sandy stretch of shoreline, his hands dug deep in the earth, a wave crashing against his left side, face contorted in pain and howling at the heavens. A depiction of Enkili after Mesos, Sire of Sorcery ripped his divine powers. "I find that I am at a loss, do you have a suggestion? Something must happen. I can't throw down a gauntlet, and then just pick it up and go home, can I?"

No, Deantor thinks, you can't. Not with Calastian mentality. You know that, and so do I. "Perhaps a reprieve, for five days, could be considered while we seek out her kidnappers and recover her to safety."

"Five days? So long? I don't believe that is appropriate. The offer doesn't have the ring of sincere effort."

Not a rejection, Deantor notes. He glances over his shoulder to see what distraction is holding Fratreli's interest. He sees the painting in the corner. The lamp light reflects off the powdered silver used in the white and gray paint of the crashing foam, and the crushed emeralds used in the sea. The face of Enkili is the center of this master piece. The depiction of terrible loss and anger is easily internalized. The light saffron currents of the open window on the back wall move slightly in the wind and shadow, reflecting light off the silver thread embroidery. "Three days, perhaps."

Fratreli seems to consider this, his distraction evident. "You have competition." He says, as if he is also considering other offers for the same service.

Deantor tries to piece together what this might mean. "All as gone well between us so far, I don't see what bringing others into this affair serves." What are you doing Fratreli? The Commander will be removed, a better, more profitable man is slated to take his place. Our plan worked!

"I didn't request their involvement, but all the same, they are on the board now." Fratreli says, pulling his eyes from the painting and directing them solely on the Ambassador.

"The Tera Vi?" Deantor asks, just a tinge of fear in his voice. It was really the only factor which could ruin their plan. Fratreli was not exaggerating their threat to Calastia, or Shelzar, nor their enthusiasm for revenging the death of a member of the royal family, half-elf or not.

Fratreli stands up, and walks to the corner of his desk, his eyes returning to the painting. "No, thankfully that is not the other party at this moment. Though it is close. Heilan is in Shelzar. He is looking for the girl. He doesn't have her, I know this because he just killed Domanar Ecel less than an hour ago. If he had the girl, he wouldn't have bothered with Domanar." he looks at Deantor, "One of us perhaps, but not Domanar." He smiles, because Heilan would not bother with either of them, not if he had the girl. His only goal would be to safeguard her out of the city by the fastest means at his disposal.

Heilan? What in Chardun's Hell is a Heilan? Deantor rifles through his memory searching for any reference to a group or individual of that name, and comes up blank. Damn. He is going to have to ask, and give ground once again to Fratreli.

"I see you are unaware of Heilan, or his position." Fratreli says, saving him from having to ask. It is a small consideration, but one that doesn't escape Deantor. Fratreli is obviously worried, and needs allies, not verbal victories. "You are of course aware of Edrin, the girl's father. Edrin travels with two royal guards, a brother/sister team. Heilan and Sorlaya. Both of them on their own are dangerous. Together they represent a force most assassins could not hope to overcome. It is said that Heilan is from the ranks of the Tera Vi Bladeslingers. Are you familiar with them?"

Deantor finishes his wine and takes the decanter of Ire whiskey to refill his glass. "No, but a royal body guard is hardly a small factor. Still, a single man..." he lets the phrase trail off with a shrug.

Fratreli is a bit stunned at this omission in the Ambassador's education. "Have you not studied any culture outside of the Ghelspad?"

"No, it was quite enough trying to learn everything about Shelzar." Domanar admits.

Fratreli ponders this. The differences between the two cultures are huge, so it was quite possible that for the first ambassador post, Calastia was more concerned with filling it with someone who would know the Shelzari ways, rather than someone with great experience as an ambassador.

"I do know, however, who Domanar was, and would have to venture that if you know who killed him, then Mazat, and the Sa'an Cartel also know. That they possibly also know why he is here, why he killed Domonar, and are after the girl as well." Deantor says, and downs his glass of whiskey. "If you believe that this Heilan is a greater threat than Mazat and the Sa'an in this situation, please enlighten me, but I think that knowing the competition is, how should we put it, impressive?, would be enough to insure that my efforts to recover the girl and return her safely to you will employ my every resource."

"Within three days." Fratreli adds.

"Within three days."

"Or the embassy will be closed." Fratreli says, clarifying the deal.

"Or the embassy will be closed." Deantor agrees.

"Good." Fratreli says, clapping his hands together, "I believe we have recovered from this set back enough to move forward." He sits down, picks up a pen, flips open the gold ink well, and grabs a report from the stack to his left.

He looks up, "Was there something else?"

Ambassador Deantor stands, "No, nothing else."

"Good, good. See you in three days." Fratreli says, going back to his report, "or not, as the case may be."

After the ambassador leaves, Fratreli sets the report aside and leans back in his chair, looking into the shadows of the corner near the painting.

"Truly impressive. I have heard about skills such as yours, but I must say that I never suspected they could be so completely effective. It is not sorcery, my alarms would have chimed." He stands up and peers hard at the shadows.

He knows Lianca is there, he watched her vanish into that corner just as the Ambassador was walking through the outer offices. No, vanish is not the right word. Fade, was more accurate. She was standing there, her hand on the back of the chair in front of the window, her hair slightly moving in the breeze. And then she faded; her arms, legs, and finally her eyes. She was still there, he could just make out her body's outline, if he focused. Then the ambassador entered the room, and when he looked back to the corner, she was simply not there.

"Still impressed?" Lianca whispers in his left ear.

Despite himself, he jumps.

"Seems you are interested in the girl after all." She says, walking around the desk to the chair the Ambassador just vacated. She brushes the cushion with her gloved hand and sits down.

"Hardly. But I have to keep him occupied. If I know what he is doing, then I don't have to spend time figuring it out." He says. "By the way, thanks for the tip on Heilan, though it certainly didn't have as much effect as I hoped for."

"Don't be so sure. He's not as innocent in the ways of the world as you might think." She says.

"You certainly are giving out information this evening. Is everything okay?"

"What do you mean?"

"I have learned more about you in the last few minutes than I've learned in the last ten years." He says, sitting back down.

She smiles. "I'm glad we were able to catch up then."

"By the way, how is that husband of yours?" He asks.

"Alive." She whispers. The word is a compression of passion, yearning, and sorrow. Add heat, and it might glitter, or explode.

*****

 

Mac Anu sets his burden down as gently as he can on the mattress, and begins untying the cords which bind it together. Masterful job, he thinks as he pulls the loops apart to unwrap the package. Naill stands at the foot of the bed, near the window peering out into the night, scanning the roof tops and the streets, searching for a threat. She is only half interested in the person wrapped up in the carpet. She is much more interested in staying alive.

The job was supposed to be simple, and now they had the army of Calastia hunting the city for them. Naill wasn't even sure if this was true or not. They did seem to get away rather easy. Perhaps this person was not as important to them as Lasher led them to believe.

Mac Anu removes the carpet folds from the bundle inside, uncovering a small, thin young woman. The blond hair is damp with sweat. Her skin is dirty, pale, and covered with the sheen of excursion. She is naked, and angry bruises are along her under developed hip bones. She is asleep, passed out from the tussle she received during their escape.

Naill looks over at her, and feels a sudden rage. Not at the girl, who is perhaps sixteen from the look of her, but that a human is so close to her when she is vulnerable. "Get away from her." she growls, before she knows what she is saying.

"What?"

"Get out!" Naill draws her daggers and moves forward.

Mac Anu, confused steps back away from the bed. "What are you doing?" He asks, preparing for combat.

Naill gets between him and the bed, forcing Mac Anu to move closer to the door. "Get out." Her eyes are terrors.

Mac Anu is unsure. Naill has never exhibited a protective nature before. If she means the girl harm, he shouldn't leave. He's not quite sure he can take Naill without severely hurting her or not. "Naill, what are you doing?"

Naill doesn't know what she is doing. She has no idea what she is doing. She has never thought of Mac Anu as a 'human' before, or that 'human' was something to protect someone else from, or that she should protect anyone. Her blood is on fire however, and she simply can not stand the fact that he is in the room right now. He has to leave. She doesn't know if she can protect the girl from him or not, but she knows she will die finding out if that is the choice.

That thought snaps her mind around. Protect her from Mac Anu? "Get some water, some soap, and some clothes. Now!" She hisses. She wants to put the daggers away, but she can't. He is still a threat. Leave Mac Anu, just leave. Please.

"I'm going to leave the door open. Don't shut it." Mac Anu says, and opens the door behind him with his left hand, not turning his back on her. He steps through the threshold into the hallway. Naill relaxes just slightly. "Calm down. I'll get some water." he looks down the short hallway to the stairs. He hopes Helen is down there. "Helen, we need some water, towels, soap and a dress that will fit someone a few inches taller than Naill. Do you have these things?"

There is silence for a much longer period than Mac Anu wishes for, "I'll send them up with Chelse." Helen's voice says from below. Chelse is her oldest daughter.

"No!" Mac Anu says sharper than he wants to. He calms his voice. "Better to bring them yourself." If that doesn't send her into maternal panic, nothing will, he thinks.

Another pause. She's going to get the kids out as fast as she can, Mac Anu thinks, and then he's going to be stuck here, with Naill, the mad woman. Alone.

Instead he hears Helen give some orders to her two daughters, and then a minute later, he hears footsteps on the stairs. Helen appears, carrying a basin of water, some towels and a dress.

"Just set them down Helen, and go back to your kids." Mac Anu says in a voice just above a whisper. "I'm not quite sure what is going on here yet."

"I'll do no such thing." The auburn woman says and before he can move to stop her, she brushes by and faces Naill. "Put those away woman and help me with this poor girl!" And she moves forward.

Not good.

To Mac Anu's surprise Naill reacts as if she's been slapped, and puts her daggers away as quickly as she drew them. Blushing she takes the basin of water from Helen and sets it down. "Now let's get this poor thing washed." Helen looks over her shoulder, "Don't just stand there gawking youngster, close the door and give us some privacy."

Mac Anu reaches in and closes the door.

He stands in the hallway.

He mentally notes another reason not to ever get married.

He goes down stairs.

He looks at Helen's two daughters. They look back at him, trying to decide if they should scowl at him or not, since their mother just yelled at him.

"Ever seen what a little girl looks like upside down?" Mac Anu says.

In moments the girls are squealing with laughter.

*****

It is noon when the messenger from the temple arrives. Mac Anu answers the door to an older man, "Is Helen home? I'm looking for a room." He says, and pulls the tails of his jacket apart revealing a small silver ingot, with the word "Pink" carved down its center.

Not red, Mac Anu thinks, "She's home. Upstairs with the children right now. Come inside and I'll get her for you." he answers.

He sits at the table, Mac Anu pours the man a cup of tea and one for himself. "So what is going on, and when can we deliver the package."

"Ah." The man says. "Package stays with you, and what is going on is mostly pain."

Mac Anu looks at him, and sits down. Not the answer he was hoping for.

"It appears that Heilan wants to find the package, and there is some confusion on whether or not to give it to him."

"Heilan."

"Yes."

"The elf that works with the Shadow Walkers. That Heilan." Mac Anu says, a bit confused.

"Yes."

"Naill and I, are here, protecting someone from Heilan." he clarifies, making sure that his words are understood, that they don't run together, confusing the issue.

"Yes."

"No."

"What do you mean, no?" The man asks.

"No, is a complete thought." Mac Anu answers.

"But..."

"But nothing. I know who Heilan is, and I've heard what he can do. No." Mac Anu says, and stands up.

"We don't know why he is looking for her. He might be here to kill her." The man says, trying to explain.

"Then she is dead." Mac Anu says. "But I'm not going to be lying beside her. I can tell you that."

"What's going on?" Naill asks, coming down the stairs.

That's my question, Mac Anu thinks, trying to assess his partner. "Heilan." he says.

"What about him?" Fear across her eyes shows she comprehends completely.

"He's in the city looking for the girl." Mac Anu says, and looks at his visitor, "Isn't that right."

"Yes."

Naill sits down on the bottom step. "Mother of Shadows." she whispers. "So we are giving her to him?"

"No, we are protecting her from him." Mac Anu says.

"We are?" Naill asks, "That doesn't make any sense, she is ..." her voice trails off.

"She's what?" Mac Anu asks.

"Nothing... nothing. Why are we protecting her from him?" Naill asks.

"Because we want to die." Mac Anu answers.

"No", the visitor says, "because we don't know his intentions."

"Have we asked?" Naill offers.

"Well, no." The visitor admits.

"Why not?"

"Because he has broken three men's legs and another's wrist, asking his own questions. We haven't had a chance."

Their visitor expounds, telling them how he arrives in bars, and taverns. Not the more public ones, but places like the Hanging Halfing, places where Sa'ra or rouges frequent. He grabs someone, and starts asking questions. Where is the girl, who took her last night from the embassy, is she alive. He never exposes more information than that, most people don't know who he is looking for, or who he is. He just appears and starts throwing people around.

It's all an act though. He's looking for someone who knows, and some how he has always picked out a person in the room, that does know something, even just a little.

"He's getting closer. No telling if he might actually get someone that knows she is here. We have gotten the others out of the city, and those that we think might know we are getting out as well. If you just stay here, and don't go outside, then you should be safe." their visitor explains.

"Safe from him finding someone like you for example." Mac Anu says.

"I'm leaving from here to a vineyard outside of the city. You'll never have the same messenger twice." He smiles, "I didn't know anything about this until two hours ago. I had a guard of Shadow Walkers follow me here, and three will be watching me leave." he looks around, "So I'm told."

Unconsciously, Mac Anu looks around as well, and sees Naill doing the same thing.

"This is ridicules. We can't send messages back then. We are stuck here. Do you know how long?" He asks.

"Probably three or four days. Edrin is on his way, so rumors say." the messenger says.

Mac Anu sits down, his mouth gapping. He closes it with a snap. "Why in Drendari's name, would Edrin becoming here, and why do you say it like it should mean something to me?"

"You don't know?" The messenger asks. "I must be the first messenger here then. Edrin Northstar is the girl's father."

"Oh gods." Naill whispers, her eyes wide with awe and fear.

Stories through the guilds and vagabonds that make up the world of Drendari followers have been circulating for the last year about Edrin, and Heilan. Edrin is said to be an elf prince from another land. He came here in search of something. Depending on who tells the story, it could be treasure, ancient magic, or lost history that would save his people.

The prince is captured by a demon, or a dragon, or something fearsome, and cursed. The curse is terrible. But Drendari offers to cure him from this curse, and restore his life, if he will give her three years of his service. To a people who live two or three hundred years, three years is a small price, so Edrin accepts. His service is to hunt down and kill Penumbrals, the shadow wizards who benefit from the magic that was torn from Drendari during captivity with the Slarecian's.

Despite the fact that elf people are usually five feet tall, Edrin is said to be six foot six, with the muscles of a barbarian. He is a powerful wizard, and a trained warrior. He can track his enemies through clouds and controls wolves. And his shadow can kill you.

Shadow Walkers fear, hate, and respect him. He is said to have killed ten Penumbral Lords in the last year, leading the Shadow Walkers on raids to several others. Every raid has been successful. The tide of the war has turned. A vagabond army is rallied by a prince, a general, a wizard. An army who has no love for any of these things. Yet they follow him.

He is also said to hate Drendari. The reason is never told. Just that he hates her.

The tale told most often is about a Shadow Walker who attacked Edrin for saying something about the Mistress of Shadows. He jumped into Edrin's shadow, and the shadow ate him.

All of it is rumor and stories of course. That's the trouble with vagabonds and rogues; they always think they are bards.

Mac Anu doesn't know how much of this is true or not. He doesn't want to know. He certainly doesn't want to find out first hand. However, if something happens to Edrin's daughter, while under his care ... he clamps down on the thought.

"Damn." he looks at Naill. "No way out."

She nods her head and straightens up. "So be it."

"You've done your job. Safe travels, and I hope we meet again in a month or so."

Their visitor gets up from the table. "Luck to you." He says, and leaves out of the back door. A small sack of coins is on the table.

Mac Anu goes into the kitchen and takes up the kettle of hot water. He looks at it, and then sets it down. From a cupboard he retrieves a bottle of whisky. He pours a cup and drinks it down. Looking at the ceiling he tries to process what he has learned. He doesn't like any of it, and stops. He pours himself another whisky and drinks that, then puts the bottle back.

Naill is standing beside the table, looking at the small sack of coins. "What" Mac Anu asks, "was that upstairs?"

She looks at him, trying to put into words what is not quite clear in her head.

"If I was going to have sex with someone," Mac Anu says, "it would be with a woman, like you, not with some sweaty unconscious child under my care."

He steps out of the kitchen and sees her standing on the bottom stair. She isn't unconscious, and she isn't sweaty. She may still be a child, but she is a radiant one. The dress is old, and worn, but it doesn't matter. Her eyes are sapphire, not merely blue. There is a tinge of purple in them. A few inches taller than Naill's five foot two, she steps off the bottom stair and looks around the room. She sees the front door.

"Not that way." Mac Anu says. His voice is rougher than he wants it to be. She looks at him. Her blond hair tucked back behind slightly pointed ears. Naill is beautiful, but this girl is simply stunning.

"There are people looking for you out there. Some may be helpful, but most are not. We don't really know who is who at this point." Mac Anu says. "Do you gamble?"

"Am I safe with you?" She asks. Her voice unbalances him. She looks soft, like grain fields brushed by the wind, but her voice has steel in it.

"I'm not sure." He answers. "You are safe from me. What is your name?"

"Elaine." she whispers her answer.

"Welcome to Shelzar, Elaine."

Helen comes down the stairs, pats the girl on her shoulder as she passes, and heads for the kitchen. On her way she sees the small sack of coins on the table and picks it up. She shakes out a few of them. They are gold. Mac Anu guesses there are ten of them in the sack. Most people work a season to see that much gold, and they never see it all at the same time like this.

"Might as well go buy some good food." Mac Anu says, "The kind of food last meals are made of."

"I'll do no such thing." Helen says, "I'll buy what I can normally afford, no more and no less." She turns to Elaine. "We need to get you a hat and a couple of dresses as well. I'll buy some cloth. Do you know how to sew child?"

"Yes ma'am." Elaine answers.

"Good, it will give you something to do." She looks at Naill. "Do you have anything besides leather and armor to wear?"

"No ma'am, I haven't had a chance to do much shopping."

"Then you come with me, Elaine and Mac Anu can watch the children. I always have two or three renters here, and you have been seen here for the last few days. Take a few of these coins." She looks at Mac Anu. His leather jacket and pants are scratched, and stained. His shirt is old and patched. "You're fine, though you could use a scrub."

"Yes ma'am." He says, and heads back to the kitchen for whisky.

"Ma'am, while you are out, can you also find some books on Shelzar, and some maps of the city. I have no idea where I am." Elaine asks.

"I have some maps here, but I'll get you some books. Naill will buy them. Not uncommon for a visitor to buy books about the city."

"Do you think we are being watched that closely?" Mac Anu asks.

"No, and I don't want to be either." Helen answers.

Despite her apparent royal heritage, Elaine is helpful, and willing to work. She cooks, does laundry, and plays with the children, who instantly love her. Though wrestling with Mac Anu is fun, following Elaine around and listening to her sing songs as she works is just as appealing.

In the evening she reads her books, out loud to the children. The language is different from her own, and she has to ask about several words. She tells Mac Anu there wasn't much time for school at her home. He listens as she tells him about her mother's tavern, and her village. She doesn't tell him why she left, and he doesn't ask. Mac Anu doesn't ask people about their past. It's just something you don't do. If they want to share it, then they will.

He tells her about the orphanage, the prostitutes and growing up on the streets of Darakeene. The struggle of finding food, not getting caught for stealing. The common stories that everyone knows about. He looks at her, and sees that she doesn't know about them, and that they horrify her.

"You are a thief?" She asks.

"Not just a thief, I'm a good one." He tells her.

The judgment in her eyes is plain. He's seen it before, he knows where this is going. "You didn't mind me stealing you." He says, and gets up from his chair and goes up stairs.

Upstairs he keeps the lamp off and looks out of the window from the shadows. He doesn't think about hiding, it's just what he does. "Am I a thief..." he sighs. "What else would I be?"

He pulls his jacket off, and begins searching across the leather for holes. There are several. Pulling his saddle bags and a chair over to the window, he sets to repairing the leather. He does this blind, by feel only. His eyes and ears searching the streets below for sounds, and movement.

It doesn't make any sense that anyone could find him here, but he knows they will. Somehow they will slip up. There are magical means as well for tracking people down. He doesn't know much about them, because he never stole something that warranted the expense before. Now he has something. A princess.

Crickets stop chirping to the east side of the house. His needle stops. He ties the thick thread off where he is, and drops his repair kit back into the saddle bags. The chirping has not continued. He doesn't hear the sound of the fence boards creaking under the weight of the cat from two houses down. A tabby. It could be anything, but he knows it isn't. Someone is outside, near the house.

Mac Anu puts his jacket on, and slips his daggers in place. There are five. He listens, and sniffs the air near the window. Slipping through the window, he makes his way to the roof of the house. He peers over the East side. Below, in the alley, is a horse. Saddled, and tethered to a fence post. It's a good horse.

He rolls back from the edge and thinks. Where would he enter the house? Where would he listen from? There are two reasons to come here. Get Elaine, or see if she is here. Since there is only one horse, this one is seeing if she is here. He pictures the house in his mind, from the vantage point of the alley.

Jumping the fence in the backyard is no problem. Plenty of grass back there as well. A laundry line, a small well pump, a garden, and a compose pile in the back. Kid's wooden toys scattered everywhere. Have to be careful.

Everyone is in the family room. Kitchen is too far away to assure a good report. The window near the fireplace is the best. There is a wood pile in front of it, so it is difficult to get a good look without some preparation.

Mac Anu moves across the roof. Cats make more sound. He draws his daggers as he reaches the edge. He looks down. A figure is below, quietly pulling logs from the pile, and stacking them. Making a small ledge to stand on. The drop is about thirty feet. He'll land directly on the man's spine.

The man suddenly looks up, and spots Mac Anu on the edge. He reaches for his crossbow. Mac Anu is just about to step off the edge, and the man falls to the ground. Mac Anu twists, and falls flat on the roof. He didn't hear the shot, but the man was shot. He mentally envisions what he just saw. The man was lifting up a crossbow. He then twisted and fell. His left hand reaching to the back of his neck. The shot came from behind him, through the fence.

No sound though. None at all. A thrown dagger. Had to be a thrown dagger or a dart.

"What's your name?" The voice is soft, and feminine.

She's leaning against the chimney, one leg bent. Her clothing is black. She's beautiful.

Mac Anu flips the daggers in his hand, adjusting them for a close throw. "Mac Anu." he says, his voice only a whisper, timed with the breeze.

She looks up at the moon. The light seems to warm her face. "Could you have killed him with no sound?"

"No. But it would have been quick, and I could use the wood pile as cover for the noise."

She nods her head approvingly.

"Good night", She turns to the other side of the chimney and steps off the roof. She never touches the ground. He doesn't see her again.

That is the kind of woman Naill has to worry about being naked in my bed.

Have to secure the house. Not much, but some. Not noticeable things either. No bells, no wires. But it has to be more secure than this. Have to have more warning.

The ten count is over. He runs to the edge of the house, puts his daggers in their sheaths as he leaps, grips the edge of the roof, spins his body and tumbles through the open window. He is through the room, through the door and down the stairs.

Naill has Elaine on the floor. She's lying on top of her. Helen is down as well, holding her boy, and clutching the girls to her. Mac Anu draws his daggers as he hits the landing, eyes searching.

No sign from Naill. No one is in the room, or in the house that she knows of.

He crouches where he is, focusing on his breathing. She was either a Shadow Walker, or an assassin. If she was an assassin, she killed the spotter for being clumsy and messing with her contract. They tend to be territorial about things like that. If she was a Shadow Walker, then they were safe.

He waits. The girls are scared. He can see it in their eyes, but they are smart too. Terrible to be smart at age eight. Or six.

Elaine's eyes are wide. She is starring at him. Waiting for him to move, or say something. Her eyes are alive. Keep them that way.

Fifteen minutes pass. No need to keep this up. Who ever she was, she is better than him.

He motions with his dagger to Helen. She nods and with the girls, leaves the living room to retire to their own room. Once they are settled he nods to Naill, who helps Elaine up, and they move past him, up the stairs. He'll stand first watch.

He has to take care of the dead body outside, and the horse.

Chapter 10 -->