An eagerness to see the girl again rattles my bones, causing me to pace from one end of the blue room to the other. I mustn't act rashly, though. I will wait for nightfall and be content to merely check on her to see how she fares. In the meantime, I need to find some means of employment.

As I move about the town, keeping to the shadows as much as possible, I soon discover Hermis' words to be true. No jobs are available, at least not for a stranger like me. I've passed the stable during my quest, each time lingering a moment, wondering if it might be the only option.

I find my way there again. Feeling rather desperate after so many rejections, I enter the long wooden building, the scent of warm hay and the tang of manure in the air. I move cautiously along the stalls, expecting the horses to become agitated by my presence. Large, dark eyes peer at me over the waist-high gates as I pass. A few whickers of warning spread down the building, but none of the horses panic. I clear my throat.

“Hello?” I call out.

A burly man dressed in a stained smock and dark trousers saunters into view, a shoeing tool in his hand. He stands a foot shorter than my own slender frame, and most of his face is obscured by a thick brown beard. This must be Jemson.

“Looking for work?” he asks, walking forward.

His intuitive guess surprises me. “Yes. How did you know?”

He looks past me. “You ain't got a horse with you and I've never seen you before, so the only logical option is you need a job.”

“Oh,” I say. “Ory told me you might be looking for help.”

“True. My previous hand decided to seek his fortunes elsewhere. You got experience with horses?”

I shake my head, guessing that alone will be enough of a reason for him to send me away.

“Not important,” Jemson says, to my surprise. “What's important is how you and the beasts get along.” He gestures to a stall on my right. “This is Henrietta. A more timid mare you'll never meet. Wary of her own shadow. Go ahead and say hello.”

I swallow with difficulty. Taking the few steps to the gate seems more like miles. My hand reaches out and lifts the latch, my fingers shaking. I can see the brownish-red mare huddled near the back, one wide eye fixed on me. I open the gate and enter the hay-strewn stall. Henrietta flicks her tail, her large head swaying from side to side. She snorts, causing her nostrils to flare.

“Steady, girl,” I say, hoping I sound calmer than I feel. I inch closer to her, prepared to leap back if she panics. She tries to back away but she's already wedged in the corner. I stop and raise a hand toward her. She looks at it and then lifts her gaze back to my face. I can almost see myself in her dark, fearful eyes. I furrow my brow, knowing I am the cause of that fear. “I won't hurt you,” I whisper.

After what seems like ages, and what might turn out to be a complete failure, the mare takes one step forward. Then another. With a gaze that never wavers, she moves close enough that my outstretched hand is only inches from her tawny muzzle.

“Hello,” I say, offering a smile of encouragement meant for the both of us.

Her head bounces a few times, almost as if she's testing her courage. Taking one more forward step, she nudges my hand with her nose before quickly darting back to her corner.

It might not be much, but for me, it's an astonishing success. I exit the stall, seeing the stable master nod approvingly.

“I'll expect you at sunrise tomorrow.”

***

Night comes at last. I listen to the stillness of the house as all the occupants settle. In addition to Swen, Hermis, the girl, and myself, there are two more lodgers: two men on their way to the western mountains to take the passage to the northern coast. I haven't seen them yet, though I've sensed their auras. Neither is very bright.

I slip out my door and move soundlessly to the room where the girl rests. I stand still, seeing her glow shining beneath the door, spilling out to the hallway. My heartbeat quickens. I twist the doorknob, but it resists. Having anticipated this obstacle, I pull out a small key I pilfered from Hermis' pocket over an hour ago.

Sliding the teeth of the key into the lock, I give it a turn. The door swings open without a sound. I dart into the room, shutting the door behind me, and face the figure lying on the bed. Her brilliance is more magnificent than I remember, illuminating her as if she were bathed in sunlight. I savor the warmth of her aura as I move closer. Her hair is smooth, her ivory skin clean, though still discolored with bruises. A white bandage is wrapped around the wound on her left arm. I'm pleased with the improvement.

Seeing a chair beside the bed, I move to it and lower myself. I watch her sleep, hypnotized by the perfect rise and fall of her breathing. If angels exist, surely she is the loveliest among them. Part of me wishes she would awaken so I might see the color of her eyes or hear her speak.

A sound in the hall makes me stiffen. Someone is just outside the room. In one leap I'm at the door again, my ear pressed against the wood. I hear breathing. Every muscle in my body tightens. I sense an aura, which means it's not another Soulless. It's familiar, though, belonging to one of the unknown lodgers.

“Keep moving,” I mutter under my breath. If he doesn't, I already know what will happen.

Seconds tick by and footsteps finally take the unwelcome aura away. I don't relax until I hear nothing more.

“Plea...please don't hurt me.”

The voice is soft, yet filled with tremors of fear. I whirl around. The girl is sitting up, holding her blanket up to her chin, her face drained of all color. My hands shoot up to show her I'm unarmed.

“Don't be afraid,” I say, my heart pounding. “I'm not here to hurt you.”

Her wide eyes stare at me. I can't tell if she believes my words or not. “Where am I?” she asks.

“Nikom,” I say. “This house belongs to a woman named Swen. I found you unconscious outside the nearby forest last night and brought you here to rest.”

Her gaze doesn't falter, yet a portion of the fear has ebbed. “Do you live here too?”

“For now. Swen rents rooms to travelers.” I lower my hands and clasp them together, my insides twisting with embarrassment. It was foolish of me to come here. I clear my throat. “How are you feeling?”

She takes a moment to look herself over, noticing her bandaged arm. “All right, I think. I don't remember much.”

The fact that we have something in common almost makes me smile. “You don't know why you were near the forest?”

Her forehead scrunches up as she thinks. “I was afraid. Someone was . . . chasing me.”

My jaw clenches. Soulless? No. If a Soulless had been on her heels she would be dead. Or worse. “You're safe here. I'm sorry I startled you.”

Her head tilts to one side as she studies me more intently. “I'm sorry I was such a bother. I'm sure you have better things to do than rescue maidens in the forest.”

Sweat coats my palms and my throat tightens. How can I express my unyielding concern for her without sounding like a lunatic? Just hearing those words in my head convinces me that I've probably gone mad. “It was no bother.”

She smiles, adding extra brightness to her aura that I didn't think was possible. My knees almost fail me.

“Then allow me to thank you . . . What is your name?” she asks.

The answer to that question is one of the many things I don't remember and, having been alone for so long, haven't bothered to create a substitute. My gaze shifts to the window where a crescent moon shines in the dark sky. I say the first thing that comes to my mind. “Call me Cress.”

“Thank you, Cress. I'm Syndel.”

The name is like a sweet melody to my ears, as golden as her aura. I say it to myself three or four times. “You're welcome,” I say, a smile finding its way to my lips, perhaps for the first time since . . .

“I should let you rest,” I say quickly, backing toward the door. “I'm sorry for intruding.”

I retreat to the hall and lean against the closed door. Shutting my eyes, I whisper her name simply to hear it spoken out loud again.