Page 65

“And how would you have helped them if the warriors had taken a sword to you? You cannot heal if you are wounded yourself. Think before you act and be careful who you trust is all I ask, especially now in these troubling times.”

Shade sighed, enjoying his gentle touch. “Wise words I will do my best to remember.”

With a clean, dry cloth, Quint patted around the wound. Once dry, he picked up the crock of honey and as he applied a generous amount to her wound, said, “Honey, magical nectar from the bees.”

Shade’s brow scrunched.

“Does my touch hurt you?” he asked concerned.

“Nay,” she said, her brow remaining scrunched.

“Then something suddenly disturbs you that your brow scrunches?”

“What was it you said about the honey?”

“Honey, magical nectar from the bees,” he said.

The wrinkles in her brow grew deeper. “Where did you hear that?”

“Amara would say that every time she applied honey to one of my wounds. Why?” he asked anxiously. “Have you heard it before?”

“I believe I have.”

“Think. Who said it to you?” Quint urged.

“A woman who came to see me but requested that her visit be kept a secret. But that woman wasn’t as you described her, though?—”

“Though what?” he asked anxiously.

“Though once cleaned, I suppose—” Shade shook her head. “The woman wore what appeared to be a hat made from a sack, her dark hair tucked beneath it. She was unkempt, her garments dusty and her hands dirty, though once I cleaned them, they were lovely and soft, untouched by hard work. I cannot recall the color of her eyes but rather the sadness and worry I saw in them. She did not give me a name; she claimed it was safer that way.”

“Why did she come to you?”

Shade debated telling him; the news something he might not want to hear.

Seeing her reluctance, he demanded, “You will tell me, Shade, I need to know.”

It would do no good keeping the truth from him. “She came to me seeking a way to purge herself of the child she carried.”

“She was with child?”

Shade nodded.

“Why did she want to get rid of it?”

Shade hesitated, but only for a moment. He had to know all he could about Amara if the reason for her death was ever to be solved. “She told me she refused to give birth to the devil’s child.”

Quint wiped the honey off his fingers shaking his head, then stood and went and sat on the edge of the bed.

Shade joined him, sitting close, and taking hold of his hand. She was glad to feel his hand grip hers and give it a squeeze. She wasn’t sure if she should speak or wait for him to say something. She chose to wait since she worried anything she said might hurt more than help.

“I knew the first time we were together that she had been with a man and a demanding one with the way she was so willing to please and had not an ounce of concern for her own pleasure.”

“Then it is good she escaped such a man.”

Quint turned toward her, his eyes wide with thought. “This man she escaped must be the one who marked her for death, her punishment for leaving him. Or perhaps it was because she purged herself of his child, which in a way would make you responsible for her death.”

The thought eased his worry that Shade’s involvement in Amara’s death was unintentional. She was an innocent in it all, Amara seeking her help of her own accord.