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his hair. She’d never seen hair quite like
his before, dark underneath with streaks of golden brown on top and long enough
to fall past his shoulders in unruly waves. Its softness surprised her as she
combed her fingers through the fine, silky threads.
    The stranger moved restlessly at
her touch. She didn’t even know his name to speak to him and reassure him that
he was safe. Sometimes the sick couldn’t hear if she didn’t say their name.
    “You’re safe. Rest. Things will be
better in the morning.”
    They might not be, but she couldn’t
confess that to him. In the morning, Tyree would push him for answers. In the
morning, his condition could be worse. In the morning, the errol might attack.
    He seemed to settle into a deeper
sleep. She should sleep as well, but her mind was just too active for sleep,
her body almost too tired. They had moved Hallaf to another hut, and sent Delnor
with him. She had her bed to herself and could rest without worry about waking
anyone. However, there was another reason she couldn’t sleep.
    The stranger’s pack lay in the
corner, almost hidden in shadow.
    Whether or not Tyree had
purposefully left it for the morning, she didn’t know, but her hands itched to
open it tonight. Tyree might not show her everything the pack held, thinking it
his right to withhold any part and parcel of information he deemed fit. He
would also trust her not to open it without him.
    Just this once she would betray
Tyree’s trust. She moved quietly and retrieved the pack. Incredibly heavy for
such a small bag, Saba gingerly opened the flap and looked inside. An assortment
of very cold, very smooth, strangely shaped items lay jumbled together. They
were not made of metal, but of a material she’d never known before.
    Weapons!
The strange objects have to be weapons. Her heart pounded against her ribs.
    Hands shaking, she hastily closed
the bag and returned it to the corner. This changed everything. She curled up
in the center of her bed, pulling the edge of her blanket over her.
    Either the room was too cool or she
was chilled. If it were the room, she couldn’t allow it to chill further, which
it would as the night went on. She hopped off the bed and stoked the fire, carefully
placing three of her dwindling pile of logs to optimize their burn. It wasn’t
long before the room warmed.
    Saba checked on the stranger again.
Unaware of her presence, he slept deeply. She sat on the edge of her bed,
wrapped in the blanket, and lost in her musings.
    Tyree certainly suspected the pack
held weapons. If he’d left here with the pack, the men of the village would
have seen and known it contained something of value. That was why he’d left it
with her instead of taking it to his hut in front of curious eyes. That and the
knowledge the stranger would never be able to reach it and turn a weapon on
her. She pulled her blanket closer, cold despite the heat of the room. She
watched the stranger, and waited.
    It was dawn, the sun just peeking
over the mountain, when her patient finally stirred. She went to his side, laying
her hand on his cheek. The titiyi bark had done its job, and his fever
was gone.
    He was also very pale. His dark
eyelashes and brows contrasted sharply against his white skin. His lips were
bloodless. It wasn’t lost on her that he was a handsome man, or at least he
would be when his color came back.
    “Can you hear me? Are you awake?”
    Clear blue eyes popped open,
surprising her with their lucidity. Recognition flickered in them. When he
spoke, his voice was low and raspy but he didn’t struggle to draw breath. It
was a good sign.
    “Ah, my angel.”
    His angel? What dream had he lived
as she’d tended him?
    “I’m not an angel. My name is Saba.
Do you remember how you came to be here?”
    His eyes closed. He swallowed with
some difficulty. “No.”
    She forced herself not to react. He
was lying, but she understood why. She might, too, in his position.
    “You don’t need to keep