The pillars of creation

He smiled that warm smile of his, the one that looked so good on him. "You aren't trained in this kind of thing. I wouldn't expect you to know how to act. Even so, I don't think I've ever met another woman who was as good as you are under such pressure. You're doing fine-you really are."

Jennsen felt a little better to know that she wasn't acting like a complete fool. He had a way about him that gave her confidence, put her at ease, made her able to do things she didn't think she could. He let her decide on her own what it was she wanted to do, and then he backed up her decision. Not many men would do that for a woman.

Down the steps once again, for the last time, she could feel the door on the other side of the room, as if she were drowning and it was the only air. People so close, brushing against her, still made her uneasy, made her feel the desperate need for that air.

She had learned earlier, though, that the men weren't the threat she had thought. She was somewhat humbled by how wrong she had been about them. Where before she had seen thieves and cutthroats, she now saw farmers, craftsmen, laborers, joining together for company, companionship, and some harmless recreation.

Still, there were killers somewhere close this night. After seeing Lathea, there could be no doubt of that. Jennsen could never have imagined that anyone could be that perverted. She knew that if they caught her, they would eventually do those kinds of things to her, too, before she was allowed to die.

She felt her stomach roil with nausea at the vivid memory of what she had seen. She held back her tears, but she needed the air of outdoors and the solitude of the night.

As she and Sebastian wound their way through the crowd and toward that air, she bumped into a big man as they crossed paths. Stopped by the human wall, she looked up into the handsome face. She remembered him. He was the man they had seen on the road to Lathea's place, earlier.

He lifted his cap in greeting. "Evening." He grinned at her.

"Good evening," she said. She told herself to smile, and make it believable, normal. She wasn't sure if she was doing a good job of it, but he seemed to find it convincing.

He didn't act as shy as she thought he had seemed before. Even the way he carried himself, his movements, were more sure. Maybe it was just that her smile was working as she had hoped.

"You two look like you could use a drink." When Jermsen frowned, not knowing what the man meant, he gestured at her face, and then at Sebastian. "Your noses are red with the cold. May I buy you an ale on this chill night?"

Before Sebastian could accept, which she feared he might, she said, "Thank you, no. We have to go… to check on some business. But it was very kind of you to offer." She made herself smile again. "Thank you."

The way the man stared at her made her nervous. The thing was, she found herself staring back into his blue eyes just as intently, and she didn't know why. Finally, she broke the gaze and, after a bow of her head to bid the big man a good night, made her way toward the door.

"Something about him look familiar?" she whispered to Sebastian.

"Yes. We saw him earlier, out on the streets, when we were on our way to Lathea's house."

She looked back over her shoulder, peering between the milling throng. "I guess maybe that's all it is, then."

Before she went out the door, the man, as if he sensed her looking at him, turned. When their eyes met, and he smiled, it was as if no one else existed for either of them. His smile was polite, no more, but it made her go cold and tingly all over, the way the dead voice in her head sometimes did. There was something frightening familiar about the feeling she got looking at him, and the way he looked at her. Something about the look in his eyes reminded her of the voice.

It was as if she remembered him from a deep dream she had completely forgotten until that very instant. The sight of him, in her awake life, left her… shaken.

She was relieved to make it out into the empty night and be on their way. She bundled her cloak's hood close around her face, against the bitter wind, as they hurried across the snow and down the street. Her thighs stung with the cold. She was glad the stable was not far, but she knew that would be only a brief respite. It was going to be a long cold night, but there was no choice. Lord Rahl's men were too close. They had to run.

While Sebastian went to rouse the stableman, Jennsen squeezed through the barn door. A lantern hanging from a beam provided enough light for her to make her way to the pen where Betty was tied up for the night. The shelter from the wind, along with the warm bodies of the horses and the sweet smell of hay and dusty wood, made the stable a cozy haven.