Chapter One

I woke up.

My head ached before I even tried moving it. I decided not to try. Some experiments just aren’t worth the effort. Even breathing hurt.

So I closed my eyes and drifted, hoping for a dream to slip into. Then the squeak of a door and footsteps banished the possibility of sleep.

I turned my head—yes, it did hurt worse to move—and almost panicked at the fact that I couldn’t see anything until I remembered that my eyes were still closed.

Oh.

That’s how bad the headache was.

Eyelids up, then. An old woman looked down at me, her hair hidden under a kerchief, her countenance anxious. When our eyes met, relief eased her brow.

“Ah. So glad you have rejoined the living, child. Don’t worry none. My husband’s gone away straight to them’t should know, and you’ll be taken care of proper.”

I tried to talk, but it came out a groan. So I tried again, making an effort not to move my head.

“Thank you . . .” Ho! It worked! Though only at a whisper. I added, “Don’t know who ‘them’ is . . . but if you think ‘they’ should know . . . I won’t argue.” It took some time to get that out, and though I was trying to be reasonable, the poor woman was looking more anxious by the moment. “Uh, what happened?” I finished.

“You do not remember?”

“No.” Could be this headache . . . Where am I? I thought—or tried to think—but the process was like trying to chase fireflies in a fog, only it hurt. “Uh.” I made another discovery. “I know it’s going to sound somewhat scattered, but I can’t seem to place who I am, either.”

“Those knots on your head would account for it,” she said in a soft, soothing voice. “I’ve heard o’ that. Don’t worry none. Your memory will return.”

“Must have been some tiff.” I struggled for humor.

“He found you face down on the south road, my husband did. You fell off a horse, hit your head against a stone.”

I winced, trying again to remember, but the hammer inside my skull increased its frenetic banging. She straightened up. “Enough chatter. What you need is sleep.”

My eyelids, by then, weighed about as much as a brace of draught horses, and I gladly complied.