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something about following trails, thanks to her rather unorthodox upbringing.
    Luckily the tracks seemed to lead in the same direction as her home, and Alys, kicking dirt over the imprints as she went, began to follow the bloody signs, hopefully not looking too obvious in doing so.
    Meanwhile, Lieutenant Warrington, having settled his business as well as he was able, came back to where he had left Alys, only to find her gone. He scanned the area in all directions, but to no avail.
    He could go after her, he supposed, discover where she had gone. But he wouldn’t. At least not tonight.
    â€œDamn easterners,” he murmured aloud. “They’ve tainted her.”
    And with nothing more to be said on the matter, the lieutenant trotted off in the direction of the tavern.
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    It was still early evening. The excitement in town had died down, the main talk of those around her, as she passed by them, being that of the ruined shipment and not of the man who had upset it. No one seemed to take much interest in her either, if they even saw her, and she relaxed. It appeared she would be allowed to complete her task without interference.
    Despite her misgivings, she followed the trail left by this ephemeral creature, this Wolf Shadow, as it wound behind the fort’s military barracks. Through dark alleyways, she continued to follow the trail even when it seemed the markings had almost disappeared. And whenever she found traces of the man’s passage, of his blood, she covered it with dirt and straightened any nearby grass, that no one else might find it. On and on she tracked, toward the back of the fort—toward her own home.
    â€œMy home?” she mumbled under her breath.
    Taken slightly aback, she kept on, the trail taking her directly to…her house. Could it be that the man had scaled the adobe bastion and the walls that stood at her backyard?
    It would seem doubtful that a single man could accomplish such a feat, and yet, the tracks wound toward her house. She followed those imprints, barely able to believe it when they led right to her own cellar…
    Alys glanced around her, mystified.
    No one knew about the secrets of her cellar. Only her mother and herself…plus, she reminded herself, one small Indian boy and girl from so long ago…an Indian boy who would now be a man.
    Alys shook herself, as though that action might clear her mind. Was it possible that this Wolf Shadow might be theboy she had once helped? Not likely. That lad, if he were wise, would have long since put as much distance as possible between himself and the fort.
    Still, the thought that this Wolf Shadow might be the youth she had once known caused her heart to skip a beat.
    Unwittingly, she touched her cheek.
    â€œAnd now a part of you is a part of me.”
    She had never forgotten. Nor had she easily put aside her childish infatuation. She could even now call back to mind the image of the young Indian as he had been, his tanned body strong and lean, his dark eyes warm with kindness and respect for her.
    She stood still, momentarily lost in her own thoughts. At length, she shook herself.
    What utter foolishness. She had long ago put away her schoolgirl crushes, had grown up and dismissed such things as nothing more than childish dreams. Although without realizing that she did it, she even now fingered the outline of the necklace she always wore, there beneath her bodice—a single shell, suspended from a bleached white buckskin chain.
    Becoming suddenly aware of what she was doing, she drew her hands to her sides and determinedly stared back toward the ground, concentrating and looking more closely for the trail. Ah, sure enough, there it was…heading directly to her cellar.
    A wave of remorse rushed over her, perhaps for things that could have been, but the emotion was quickly replaced by anger. This was her cellar, these were her caves and caverns. No one was allowed here.
    Her anger overriding her caution,