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Order does to children who have the Gift?” she asked, baiting him. “They take their eyes!”
    It was true, in a fashion. The blind monks of the Order were a common enough sight across the Southlands. Yet it was also a lie. The Pilgrims were blessed with a mystical second sight that gave them complete awareness of the world around them; everyone knew they were not truly blind.
    â€œAnd what will you take from this child?” Roland asked, his voice rising slightly.
    He knew little about the ways of Chaos and magic, yet he feared the child might be used in some dark ritual, possibly to help the ageless woman keep the years at bay a little while longer.
    â€œI mean this child no harm,” Bella offered, as if sensing his thoughts. “She has power. Potential. But it will never be realized if she is given to the Order.”
    â€œI do not wish to turn her over to the Order,” Roland assured her.
    â€œThe child is mine,” Bella insisted one last time. “Nobody wanted her. I took her in. I won’t give her up to the likes of Miss High and Mighty!” There was a long pause before she added, “Not without some type of … compensation.”
    By the time Roland returned to the manor the rain had stopped and the first faint light of dawn was coming up over the horizon, transforming the still-visible red moon to an eerie orange hue. Madam Wyndham was still asleep when he slipped into the room. The wet nurse—a sturdy, plain-looking young woman from one of the nearby farms who had given birth to her own child only a week ago—was waiting for him there.
    She didn’t say a word, simply took the little girl as Roland handed her over. She lifted the baby to her breast, and Roland released a breath he hadn’t even known he was holding when the child began to nurse.
    It was done. Only four people knew the truth—the wet nurse, the midwife, Bella, and Roland himself. And he’d done everything he could to ensure each woman’s silence.
    He’d made sure the young girl now holding the baby at her breast understood that she and her own newborn child would be well looked after as long as she kept her position at the manor. She was a smart, practical girl; he was confident she wouldn’t risk that future by revealing their secret.
    The midwife was even less likely to talk. He’d paid her to remove the body of Madam Wyndham’s dead daughter, then paid her extra to keep silent. Besides, a woman whose livelihood depended on birthing had no reason to let people know she’d delivered another stillborn infant.
    Bella was the only one he wasn’t sure of. He’d offered her a very generous sum in exchange for the child and a vow never to speak of what had transpired, and he’d promised to steer Madam Wyndham’s wrath away from the witch-woman and her work. He’d never heard of the white witch reneging on a deal with one of her clients, yet he couldn’t bring himself to fully trust anyone who practiced the dark arts. So to seal the deal, he’d warned Bella that if she ever betrayed his trust he’d do everything in his power to bring the wrath of the Order down upon her.
    The threat was mostly hollow, but the witch had accepted his offer. The money would have to come out of his own accounts; it was the only way to keep Sir Wyndham from asking questions. Roland wasn’t a rich man, and Bella’s price had been high. But looking down into the babe’s brilliant green eyes, so vibrant and full of life as she suckled, he knew he’d made the right choice.

Chapter 4
    A gust of wind leapt over the parapets and tore at the Queen’s cape, fluttering it out from her shoulders. Here in the Northern capital of Ferlhame, protected by leagues of thick and ancient forest on every side, the winds were never fierce. Yet the evening breeze that swept over the high walls of the castle carried the dampness of a reluctantly