I pray, too. Funny, that, when I’ve given up on God, more or less. I pray that they won’t drag us out and kill us. I pray that we don’t die down here in the dark, slowly. I pray that Bardán won’t go crazy. I pray that I won’t fall to pieces like I did before. I pray that I’ll see Blackthorn again. But those aren’t prayers, they’re more like wishes. So I say I’m sorry for all the things I’ve got wrong. The times I wasn’t brave enough, the times I hurt people, the times I made bad choices. And I say to God, if it’s my time to go, it’s my time. As long as Blackthorn’s safe, I’m all right with that. But Bardán deserves another chance. He’s just found out his daughter’s still alive. He’s had his hope woken up. He needs to get out, live his life. Make up for those fifteen years he lost. Wish he hadn’t gone down there on his own to front up to Tóla. I should’ve gone with him even though he said no. Don’t know what happened at the house. He went off, and I was having my breakfast, miles away thinking about Blackthorn and how much I wanted to go home. Feeling sorry for myself. And suddenly there were four fellows trying to grab hold of me. One of which was Gormán. Not fighters, but they were armed and I wasn’t. So I tried to calm them down, talk them out of it. Stupid me. Hard blow to the head knocked me out cold. When I woke up I was in the dark, trussed up like a bird for roasting. And right next to me was Bardán.

Blood on my face. Head throbbing a bit. Can’t tell if Bardán’s hurt. Can’t see a poxy thing down here. Only knew it was him from the smell. Got to stay awake. Drop off and I’ll be out of my mind before you can snap your fingers. Dreaming the bad things and waking up to the dark. I’d be a gibbering wreck.

What’s Tóla got over Gormán, to keep him dancing to the one tune? I know Gormán’s a good man underneath. Maybe Tóla’s told him he’ll be sent away if he doesn’t obey orders. Never get to see Cara again. Could be that. Like a grandfather to the girl, Gormán is. Friends since she was a little thing.