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like sparks popping and flying from a fire. “I won’t hurt you,” he murmured, like he was coaxing a wild animal closer—in this case, me. He was the stranger here. The interloper. It was he who should tiptoe around me.
    â€œI’ll leave tomorrow, and what you are . . . blind or not.” He uttered “not” with heavy skepticism. “It won’t matter.”
    â€œThen why do you care what I am?” I demanded, trying not to reveal how much he had just shaken me. He was leaving tomorrow.
    Leaving us to care for the boy and girl, I presumed. Dusting his hands clean and abandoning them both to us. I wasn’t sure if I was bothered more for Madoc and Dagne or simply because he was removing himself from my sphere. He’d filled what had been empty only to remove his presence just as suddenly.
    Except I would remember he had been here. In the tomb of my tower, in dark silence, I would remember his voice, his smell, and the way he handled himself on the Outside. His vital energy. His animal intensity. He was what it meant to be alive.
    He made the urge to experience life outside these walls pound deeper inside me—stronger than before. I pressed my fingers to my pulse thrumming wildly at my neck.
    â€œCall it curiosity,” he replied.
    â€œYou’ll just leave Madoc and Dagne? Abandon them—”
    â€œThey’re not my responsibility.”
    â€œThey were with you. You were together. How can you be that . . . selfish?”
    The air stretched thin, and I felt his stare on my face, harder than before. “This world demands it. Only the selfish survive.”
    â€œI don’t believe that—”
    â€œWhat do you know of the world? How often do you even step outside these walls? The way Sivo reacted when you returned with me, I don’t imagine very often. You’re blind. You can’t know.”
    I hissed a stinging breath. Not only was he selfish, but he was cruel and narrow-minded and he saw too much of the truth. “I left these walls long enough to save your life. Fortunate for you, I was not struck with a surge of selfishness then.”
    â€œI didn’t ask it of you.”
    â€œNo, but you took my help, didn’t you?” I swung back around. “My mistake. I wish I hadn’t bothered.” I paused with my hand on the latch. Swallowing, my voice came out thankfully stronger. “Next time I won’t.”
    A lie on both counts.
    If the same circumstances presented themselves, I would react the same way. I knew that much about me.
    â€œDon’t worry. There won’t be a next time.”
    Turning, I stepped from the room, closing the door with a dull thud behind me.
    It was a long day.
    Perla emerged a few times from my bedchamber for fresh linens and water. I lifted my head in her direction at the first sound of her tread, as though she might reveal something in manner or speech about Fowler. Had he mentioned to her that he knew I was sightless? Had he said anything about me at all?
    Perla frequently accused me of being quick to provoke. She always pointed to my bloodlines. Apparently, my father had been hot tempered. I punched the dough I was kneading and flipped it over.
    Fowler had emerged fully clothed shortly after I left him. His scent had been less potent, and I knew I would never make the mistake of failing to recognize him unclothed again. He’d walked a hard line for my chamber. I didn’t even feel his gaze upon me. He would be leaving tomorrow. Unless he changed his mind and intended to leave this very day. I didn’t know and, of course, I couldn’t inquire. That would call too much attention to the fact that he affected me.
    â€œHow’s the boy?” I asked Perla as I set the dough in a bowl and draped a linen over it.
    Her response was a grunt. Madoc still lived, and she was frustrated that I had made him our problem, that I brought him here and threatened our sanctuary.
    I