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Hes all right, confirms Freya, casting a slightly more expert eye over the busker whose song echoes off the walls of the underpass. Hes his own person. Nice voice. Tears streamed down her face, gilded by the unnatural light. Jeren sobbed a word, only one but Shan knew its shape on her lips. His name. Then she went still, her head lolling down to her chest. Max was lowering the ramp. Eve clears her throat, painfully. She opens her eyes like a Hollywood glamour-puss waking from a swoon. Kept it in the family, so to speak, says Millward. Spoke to their priest who said the boy was rotten all the way through, though I think his feelings had been hurt because Cormac had once told him to go get out of his sight before he gave him a Stigmata with a screwdriver. Mum and Daddy were at a loss. Thats when they heard about your school. It might only be statistics, but it gave me hope.We only have two days left. I want to plan some fun things for Gabriel. Something that wont tire him out too much. And so are you, said Shan, not quite finished with his assessment. We mean you no harm. Will you ask them to come down? Breathing harshly, Shan released Jeren and looked up. Anala shook herself, yawned and stretched out, barring the entrance. The owl perched on a rocky outcrop, preening herself. Shan stared at her for some minutes before he found the right words. Hes trying to will himself to die. I will consider it, Seer. Snowdrop glances at her uncle. He gives a tiny shake of the head. Both are aware that for Serendipity, one smoke would be too many. He stopped, his head tilted to one side, as if listening to something. Shan could almost imagine he too could hear Haledrens pitiful pleas as they echoed off these very walls. Explain, he ordered, not really caring who answered. And youre saying this is Cormac? Rosie lives in a sturdy, stone-built cottage that looks, to Rowans inexpert gaze, as though it may have stood here for the best part of 200 years. Its an inviting, homely sort of place and seems to carry with an intrinsic whiff of home-cooking and freshly-picked herbs. Five big windows, painted sage green, spread out neatly around a big purple front door. The front lawn is slightly overlong but there are neatly labelled bamboo canes in the sodden flower-beds, predicting the names of the flowers that will bloom here soon. He glances up as he passes from the cold of the day to the heat of the house and spies a bushel of dried juniper; the berries black, tucked into the eaves of the porch. Its a local superstition, a way to keep bad spirits away. Rowan wonders what she’s afraid of – why she came out so quickly when she spotted a strange man so obviously poking around in her neighbour’s garden. Christian laughed.I wont let you die, Dakota. Youre going to live a long, long time and spend all of it in a cage just like this one. D. I. Russell.