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He's under my care. Besides, he's so old, it's not worth -- The master sets the tray down on the nearest table. The word please issues forth from his mouth as a strangled buzz, then the rest comes tumbling out: I have an extra hookah. You can share -- Somewhere in the distance, there is a flash of light, a blink against the darkening horizon. Night fire. The master curses silently. Not now! Who would dare -- The stranger draws his sword. It is polished and gleaming, like a collector's item should be. Holding it before him, as if taking a vow, he mutters: Out of the way. I have business with him.  |
Surely this must be a joke, the master thinks. Who would go around, making such a -- Wait. The woman is completely still, she cannot breathe, she knows she must remember something -- a name, a bit of history, a crucial detail -- but the effort to grab hold of it drains every bit of her energy. Out of the way, the warrior repeats. She is hyperventilating, her eyes like pearls in the fading light. She thinks: Somewhere in the woods, where the creek is shaped like a snake. There was a tree there, a tree with a hollowed-out bottom, so we could sleep away from the rain and the cold.  |
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