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But Im strong enough, one grey haired man argued. I made it here, didnt I? When I was trying to get back to you. Just before you found me, on the road to Brightlings Dale. Vicky makes a show of narrowing one eye at him.Dont think youve got me fooled, she says, mischievously. “Im not buying this little-boy-lost’ act of yours. I know what you’re doing. She frowned, amazed he could think she could deny him something as trivial as that. Then she remembered the way her people looked at him. The way the Dalers had reacted to his presence at her side. They feared the Fair Ones. They despised them. All the Holters did, except for a precious few. Eve, you mean? Ms Cater? She sat straighter, somehow still held fast by the seatbelt, first examining her ruined hand, then staring down to her feet. Some of her sketches had tumbled loose in the crash. She reached down and grabbed a fistful, stuffing them back within the hardcover, the distorted ink-swept smiles and malevolent charcoal glares sliding inside the pages. Im a little out of my jurisdiction. The road straightened, and Dale gripped the steering wheel with his right hand, reaching down with his left. Gradually, she realises she cannot see. Her senses are all jumbled; smells and sights and sounds all swirled around like wet paint. She fancies she can touch colour; can taste crimson and iron. Can reach out with her hands and grope at great liquid handfuls of darkness. The school, she says. You search the grounds then – Ill organise things my end and try to get you some space to manoeuvre. Ill keep them away until you tell me you need me. What you want. Making sure you go safely to your Holt. Ill take care of it all. Make sure were never together again. He snatched up his sect knife last of all and rammed it into the sheath. And yet lacking. For him, at least. Jerens jaw fell open. A cry of alarm came stillborn to her lips as she looked on skin as fair as one snow-touched, the veins a tracery of blue, like lines in marble. His white-blonde hair was finely braided, each strand no thicker than a childs bracelet. His silver eyes slanted beyond those of a human and his long lashes were the same white gold. Paler than an albino, as handsome as the images of her god, this Fair One warrior had saved her life. He was younger than Haledren, broader in the shoulders, but just as pale and beautiful, heart-wrenchingly handsome—and just as unapproachable. Ilydona Fray, my lady, she said with quiet dignity..