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The Aldermaston leveled his eyes at her. “Even were I to let you go and you managed to return to warn Gideon in time, Stay Home and watch the golden girls do you think it would really matter? Muirwood will be mine at last. The most ancient Abbey in the realm will finally become the grandest. When I become its Aldermaston, there will be no more profits spent on Demont and his pitiful army. Then perhaps he will finally be persuaded to end this fruitless contest for power.” He put his hand on her shoulder, his thick heavy hand. “A pheasant. Or a pig. You may hunt on my grounds, but you cannot leave them. I forbid it. You serve me now, child.”

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She stomped on one’s foot and wrenched the staff out of his hands and dropped him with a single blow. The other man looked stunned as she whirled the staff around. He deflected it but she switched ends and jabbed the rounded end into his throat. He clutched his neck, dropping his staff with a loud clattering noise and Lia braced herself on the steps. She saw the wretcheds gathering around, Stay Home and watch the golden girls the gardeners with spades and pruners with shears, others with brooms and rakes and young girls with polishing rags and tubs of wax. She understood it now – that the Aldermaston of Augustin did not want to see his wretcheds working, so he made them work at night. They labored and toiled so that during the daylight, he would not be bothered with looking at them. Reaching into the pouch at her waist, she withdrew the Cruciger orb and summoned its blinding light. It enveloped her like a blazing sun.

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The smells and sounds of the woods were comforting, familiar, and haunting with memories. The scent of pine was strong in the air and Lia’s rushed pace prevented her from being cold. She walked with her hood down, listening for any sound that would betray an enemy. She had walked for a league at least and her feet were tired and sore, but she had endured worst before and knew her Stay Home and watch the golden girls strength would last. She had to reach the port of Doviur by morning, and she decided to walk until she could smell the salty air before stopping and resting. The orb guided her, pointing the way through the tangle of trees, stumps, and fallen trunks.

A memory from the Bearden Muir flitted through her mind as she traversed the woods. She remembered the feeling of her filthy dress clinging to her skin, the grit buried underneath each fingernail, her hair a tangled mess. Those were details, but the bud of the memory was Colvin first teaching her how the Medium worked. It was the revelation that all actions in the world originated from the seeds of thought, deliberately sown and nurtured, and then the Medium maneuvered events to bring them to pass. His desire to join Garen Demont’s forces at Winterrowd had brought him Muirwood Abbey and laid him in the care of Lia as a wounded stranger. She recognized, a bit ironically, that his desire to find Ellowyn Demont had unwittingly been fulfilled as well.

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It was her turn now to focus her thoughts on reaching him. The desire to find a ship to Dahomey consumed her. She had to hurry for something was going to happen if she did not. The Blight would start at Dochte Abbey and more than anything else, she wanted to protect him from it. She worried about him, so far away. What was he doing at that moment? Asleep and dreaming? Stay Home and watch the golden girls What were his dreams? Was he awake at that moment, staring out some window at a night sky, sharing the scene of the moon high above that painted everything silver? Or was he in a dungeon as Marciana suggested, cold and miserable and terrified of the dark confined space.

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