The tone of her mother’s voice shook her. “I am afraid that something will go badly wrong,” she murmured.
“Of course. Any sane person would be.”
Amber laughed. “You were always so practical.”
“I came to tell you I have faith in you. And I know you have found the perfect man.”
She flushed. “I think so too. The part about Max. But I do not know if he will want to stay with me.”
“I have faith in that, too.”
“Are you here to give me faith?”
“I wanted to see you one more time and tell you that the gods bless your mission.”
“How do you know?”
“I feel it.”
“I hope so.”
“But now I will leave you with him who has joined you in this dangerous task.”
As suddenly as Devora had come, she vanished, and Max was standing beside the bed. He lay down beside her, taking her in his arms.
She was still dreaming. She understood that. But she rolled to her side and clung to him, taking comfort from his presence.
“My plan was crazy from the start,” she whispered.
“No. You’re a strong woman,” he answered as he stroked her back and shoulders.
“Am I?”
“Of course. You took your fate into your own hands.”
She still didn’t know how that would come out. But she understood that what she had done was better than letting the slave masters on Naxion determine her fate.
Max kept talking to her, settling her nerves. Then he, too, was gone, and she was lost to sleep.
A voice woke her. “It’s time.”
“Mother?”
“No, it’s Camille. Did the potion bring your mother to you?”
“Yes.” her eyes blinked open, and she stared at the tribe’s head woman.
“Was it a good visit?”
“Yes. It was a blessing.”
“I’m glad.”
She sat up and looked toward the window, aware that outside the hut was blackness, but inside warm candles flickered. In their light she saw there were three other women with Camille. Two were dark-haired and the third was blond. She had seen all of them the night before when she’d helped with the dinner preparations.
“How do you feel?” Camille asked.
She took a quick inventory of herself. “Much better,” she answered.