As he leaned over to fill their water skins, his new charm swung out from his neck. He had never put much value in such fancies, but something niggled at him constantly now, a worry that kept itself dark and hidden away. Much had changed—he and Nomi, for a start, and the fact that he was sometimes living her dreams and nightmares—but this felt like something more. It felt like . . . intrusion.

Many people he knew wore charms to ward off certain worries. So he bought one, and named it as he put it on. He knew it would not work, but neither would it do any harm.

He looked down at the twist of bone suspended from the cord around his neck, spinning, swaying . . . and past it, below the surface of the water, he saw a light-colored stone. He picked it out. The water was cold and took his breath away.

The stone was flat, about the size of his palm, and it had a perfectly round hole straight through its center. The Widow had shown him a similar stone many moons ago, and as she held it up to the sky she said, Look at the moons through the hole, breathe through it three times and wear it, and it's said your heart and mind will be well for a long time. Ramus had scoffed at her beliefs back then, asking how a worn stone could influence someone's health. But the Widow had scolded him, as she often did, berating him with superior knowledge and breadth of vision.