Chapter 11: The Widow's House

Gorund brought the news with the porridge.

"The Collector's men have pulled back to the Council inn at the bottom of the ridge," he said.

"They went in the night. No guard wanted to be known as the man who held her down."

"For how long?" asked Nanami.

"Till he finds new ones."

She put down her spoon.

"Then it's today."

Dravan had been quiet since he woke.

He looked at his bandaged hand, and then at her.

"The Widow's House is ten minutes down the ridge," he said. "We can be back before the bell."

They went out through the small kitchen gate, so that nobody at the main gate would see.

The cook had pressed a hot bun into Nanami's hand on the way out, and she ate it without tasting it.

The path wound down between stunted pines and black rock.

Cold wind came up off the plain, and Nanami wrapped the lent shawl around her.

"The circle isn't whole," she said. "I don't know what that means. I want to ask her."

"Ask who?"

"Someone who has seen another one."

He didn't answer, but his steps slowed.

"If she says something I can't take," Nanami said, "will you stay in the room?"

"I'll stay in any room you tell me to."

His good hand found the small of her back and stayed there as they walked.

The house stood in a hollow below the last of the pines.

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