Dhampir - By Barb Hendee & J. C. Hendee Page 0,136

rather than a friend. After dressing, she started to tuck her amulets inside the shirt and then stopped, leaving them to dangle loosely in plain view. Perhaps the topaz stone could help warn her.

Just past sundown, Magiere walked home through the streets of Miiska. Her armor waited at The Sea Lion, but other than this, she felt ready for whatever lay ahead.

Someday, she would turn to dealing with what lay behind her in the past she'd ignored for so long.

Stands of garlic hung in every window she passed. How many times had she walked through a village decorated with garlic bulbs, some still with leaves and flowers attached?

Was she seeking redemption or forgiveness? And from whom? Why had Leesil's suggestion of flight never occurred to her?

The street was barren and abandoned. In the years of travel with Leesil, the village paths and town streets had always been empty before they "performed." Those with no intention of fighting, believing openly in the threat, now hid inside their homes. She couldn't blame them. When she reached The Sea Lion, she went around back and approached the kitchen door. It was ajar, and a bizarre sight greeted her.

Brenden's cleanly dressed body lay stretched out on the table. He was clad in a green tunic, dark breeches, and polished boots. The tunic's collar covered his throat. Near the end of the table, Leesil sat on a stool, soaking quarrels in a large bucket of brown water. He moved slowly, as if each small effort hurt him. The bandages around his ribcage hung loose.

"You should be in bed," she said from the doorway.

He managed a smile. "You'll get no argument from me, but we've got a long night ahead."

She came in to stand by the table, looking down at Brenden's closed eyes.

"It's like he's asleep," she said, "as though he'd been peeling potatoes for a party and stretched out to nod off on the table."

She had no time to properly mourn Brenden, but his pale skin and endless slumber did not allow neglect.

"I know," Leesil answered. "It was a macabre sight. There were near a dozen people in here all working with me. I kept trying to ignore him as he lay there, but then I had to send the townsfolk to their places, and for quite a while, it's just been me and him. I actually talked to him, chastising him for sleeping on the job. Sounds crazy, yes?"

Magiere touched Brenden's stiff shoulder. "No, it doesn't. I never thanked him for carrying me out of those tunnels."

"He didn't expect thanks—not from us."

All the pots and pans were scattered about, some full of garlic water, some empty.

She sighed. "I have to get my armor. Are we ready?"

"Yes, I think so. Oh, there was a hidden cellar beneath the floor of the stable just up the road from us. I've had Rose and the other children moved there… as many of the youngest that could fit."

"Good, where are you going to be?"

"With Karlin and our so-called 'archers.' They'll need direction when the fighting starts."

Magiere blinked. "Leesil, you can barely walk."

"I'll be all right. Caleb made me chew some foul-smelling bark that deadens pain. Tasted even worse than it smelled. I only need to make it through the next few hours."

Every instinct told her that she should track him and knock him out cold from behind. She could hide him below the stable with Rose. But he was right. The others would need direction and someone with clear wits to hold them together. Half of them would probably run at the first sight of Rashed.

Leesil was so calm, and he'd put up with so much.

"Be careful," she said simply.

"You, too."

* * *

When Rashed woke, his senses told him sunset had long passed. The hull floor felt hard. He turned over and pushed himself up. He was alone.

"Teesha?" He scrambled to his feet, instantly awake. 'Teesha?" he called louder.

Crawling through the trapdoor to the boat's deck, he cast out with his thoughts for any trace of her presence. He'd never been able to sense another of his own kind, except his brother, Parko, but he tried it just the same. Only the background tingle of forest life answered him.

Caution abandoned, Rashed dropped to the shore, calling aloud and not caring who heard him. "Teesha!"

"She's gone," a hollow voice whispered.

The tragic visage of Edwan materialized beside him. Although Rashed could not help feeling some pity for the ghost, he disliked having to speak with Teesha's dead husband. Worry now