“Just for a little while,” he answered. “I want to wait until long after midnight to enter the cave.”

Evelina gave a little screech. “As if it won’t be terrifying enough! You’re going to make it easy for the monks to catch us.”

“Hush, keep quiet,” Marcus warned. “I don’t want anyone to see us or hear us. I’m not going to make finding us easy for anyone.”

He planned to use his magic to conceal the boat from view, cast an illusion over it, so that anyone looking at the boat would see only dark, flowing water. Such illusions never work, Draconas had once warned him. Someone always sneezes. But Marcus could think of no other way to avoid the monks, if they were in the cave.

He shipped the oars and tied the boat up securely. The boat bobbed gently in the water. He picked up one of the blankets, toyed with it a moment as he thought over what he had to do.

“I hate to ask this of you—” he began.

“Ask me,” said Evelina. “Please. I will do anything.”

He regarded her steadily. “I am going to use my magic to hide us and the boat.”

He paused, waiting for her reaction. She continued to gaze at him.

“Yes,” she said. “Go on.”

“You’re not afraid ... of the magic?” he asked hesitantly.

“No, of course not,” she told him. “Why should I be afraid of you?”

His heart warmed to her. No flinching, no shrinking away, no talk of “devil’s work.” Just calm acceptance.

“I am very tired, and I must be strong and well rested to use the magic.”

“You need to sleep. Of course,” said Evelina briskly. “Go ahead. You sleep and I’ll keep watch.”

“You don’t mind?”

She shook her head. “I only wish I could do more.”

Marcus drew near Evelina and kissed her on the cheek.

“Thank you,” he said.

Evelina blushed and lowered her eyes. Marcus lay down as best he could in the bottom of the boat. Evelina fussed over him, making a pillow of another blanket for his head and helping him to find the most comfortable of uncomfortable positions. Closing his eyes, Marcus gave himself to the rocking motion of the boat.

The confusion one feels as the mind sinks slowly into sleep stole over him, so that he was rowing again, and then he had no oars, but he was still rowing, and the boat slid into darkness . . .

Evelina put her hand to her cheek. She could still feel Marcus’s kiss, as though it had burned her like the hot irons they used to brand the mark of shame on prostitutes. Evelina was pleased with herself. She had recovered in a few moments all the ground she’d lost with Marcus during the trip.