cloth.
"Glin, what is the matter?" he asked.
"I applied a—a medicinal band to her neck, but to no avail. She is gone."
The pitcher fell from his hands, to smash and splash water across the carpet as Harren ran forward. He flung himself on his daughter's lifeless body, sobbing and beating the pillow with his fists. Toru-masen slowly got to his feet, then took his friend by the shoulders and drew him away from the bed.
"Farewell, Velesti, it moved my heart to see you looking so beautiful," said the medician, gazing at the pale, gaunt, but strangely radiant face on the pillow before turning with his inconsolable friend and guiding him to the door.
Harren's wife, their son Reclor, Velesti's maid Julica, and the groom were gathered in the parlor when the two men returned downstairs. The circle of eyes was focused on Harren, but he said nothing as Torumasen helped him to a chair.
"Velesti is dead," the medician announced.
Harren's wife Elene cried out, then rushed to her husband's side and flung her arms around him. Julica fell to her knees, sobbing, but Reclor merely hugged his folded arms harder against his chest while his lips tightened to a thin, sharp line. The youth wore a medium bore flintlock at his right thigh. He was still too young to go armed in public, but ever since the attack he had strapped the gun on as soon as he returned home.
"Velesti has not suffered for many weeks," Torumasen explained. "Either through injury or revulsion, her mind probably fled to some dark corner within herself and slowly wasted away."
"But if her mind had fled, surely it might have crept back again," sobbed Julica, her eyes glistening as she wrung her hands.
"I have known that to happen. Folk have lain as dead for weeks, then returned to their senses for no obvious reason. Some reported that they heard their loved ones reading and talking to them, and that they journeyed toward the familiar voices through a strange and empty wasteland."
"I have been doing just that," cried Julica.
"But to return she had to want to return," explained the medi-cian. "I only—"
Suddenly a piercing shriek echoed out from somewhere above them. Everyone froze for a moment, then looked to each other as if to confirm that the sound had been real. A moment later they were scrambling for the stairs.
Velesti was on the floor beside the bed, trying to raise herself on her arms and shaking her head as if to clear it.
"She's alive!" cried Julica, standing with her hands pressed to her cheeks.
Velesti looked up into her eyes, then hauled herself to her feet and stood for the first time in two months.
"Misar?" the girl whispered.
"Vel, you should be in bed," said Harren, stepping forward and taking her arm.
Velesti twisted out of his grip, spun him around and pushed him away. Harren staggered, stumbled, and fell to the thick carpet. For a moment everyone stood back, staring as Velesti stood swaying beside her bed. Her eyes were huge and round in her gaunt face.
"Misar?" she rasped again.
"Who is Misar?" asked Torumasen.
"I don't know," replied Julica.
"One of those who ravished her?" suggested Elene. "Or perhaps a secret sweetheart?"
Velesti ignored them, slowly bringing her hands up and staring at them. She ran her fingers over her face, then down her neck and chest. As she felt her breasts she screamed again and collapsed. Julica darted forward and caught her.
"Velesti, do you know me?" pleaded Julica over and over as she helped her back to the bed. "Julica, it's Julica! You're safe now."
Velesti opened her eyes again and stared at her. Her lips moved soundlessly, and she frowned with concentration.
"Julica?"
"Yes, yes. Don't you remember me?"
"Julica . . . soure mie . . . ah—my sister?"
Julica flung herself across Velesti, now sobbing with relief as the others crowded around the bed.
"No, no, but as dear to me as a sister. I have been your maid for five years."
Julica now sat up, but immediately Velesti seized her arm and drew herself
"Glin, what is the matter?" he asked.
"I applied a—a medicinal band to her neck, but to no avail. She is gone."
The pitcher fell from his hands, to smash and splash water across the carpet as Harren ran forward. He flung himself on his daughter's lifeless body, sobbing and beating the pillow with his fists. Toru-masen slowly got to his feet, then took his friend by the shoulders and drew him away from the bed.
"Farewell, Velesti, it moved my heart to see you looking so beautiful," said the medician, gazing at the pale, gaunt, but strangely radiant face on the pillow before turning with his inconsolable friend and guiding him to the door.
Harren's wife, their son Reclor, Velesti's maid Julica, and the groom were gathered in the parlor when the two men returned downstairs. The circle of eyes was focused on Harren, but he said nothing as Torumasen helped him to a chair.
"Velesti is dead," the medician announced.
Harren's wife Elene cried out, then rushed to her husband's side and flung her arms around him. Julica fell to her knees, sobbing, but Reclor merely hugged his folded arms harder against his chest while his lips tightened to a thin, sharp line. The youth wore a medium bore flintlock at his right thigh. He was still too young to go armed in public, but ever since the attack he had strapped the gun on as soon as he returned home.
"Velesti has not suffered for many weeks," Torumasen explained. "Either through injury or revulsion, her mind probably fled to some dark corner within herself and slowly wasted away."
"But if her mind had fled, surely it might have crept back again," sobbed Julica, her eyes glistening as she wrung her hands.
"I have known that to happen. Folk have lain as dead for weeks, then returned to their senses for no obvious reason. Some reported that they heard their loved ones reading and talking to them, and that they journeyed toward the familiar voices through a strange and empty wasteland."
"I have been doing just that," cried Julica.
"But to return she had to want to return," explained the medi-cian. "I only—"
Suddenly a piercing shriek echoed out from somewhere above them. Everyone froze for a moment, then looked to each other as if to confirm that the sound had been real. A moment later they were scrambling for the stairs.
Velesti was on the floor beside the bed, trying to raise herself on her arms and shaking her head as if to clear it.
"She's alive!" cried Julica, standing with her hands pressed to her cheeks.
Velesti looked up into her eyes, then hauled herself to her feet and stood for the first time in two months.
"Misar?" the girl whispered.
"Vel, you should be in bed," said Harren, stepping forward and taking her arm.
Velesti twisted out of his grip, spun him around and pushed him away. Harren staggered, stumbled, and fell to the thick carpet. For a moment everyone stood back, staring as Velesti stood swaying beside her bed. Her eyes were huge and round in her gaunt face.
"Misar?" she rasped again.
"Who is Misar?" asked Torumasen.
"I don't know," replied Julica.
"One of those who ravished her?" suggested Elene. "Or perhaps a secret sweetheart?"
Velesti ignored them, slowly bringing her hands up and staring at them. She ran her fingers over her face, then down her neck and chest. As she felt her breasts she screamed again and collapsed. Julica darted forward and caught her.
"Velesti, do you know me?" pleaded Julica over and over as she helped her back to the bed. "Julica, it's Julica! You're safe now."
Velesti opened her eyes again and stared at her. Her lips moved soundlessly, and she frowned with concentration.
"Julica?"
"Yes, yes. Don't you remember me?"
"Julica . . . soure mie . . . ah—my sister?"
Julica flung herself across Velesti, now sobbing with relief as the others crowded around the bed.
"No, no, but as dear to me as a sister. I have been your maid for five years."
Julica now sat up, but immediately Velesti seized her arm and drew herself
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