She watched him until he was out of sight, wondering briefly if he would be all right and almost immediately deciding that if anyone could be safe in the Ashenell it would be Xac Wen, and she resumed her position in front of the arch. No one had gone past them the entire time they were there, from yesterday afternoon until now. As far as she was able to tell, no one had even come into the Ashenell. She felt like she was the last person alive in the city. The sounds beyond the cemetery boundaries were muffled and indistinct; mostly there was only the silence and the rustle of the wind in the trees and the singing of the birds.

She felt newly discouraged. She wasn’t going to be able to keep this up much longer. It didn’t matter what she hoped might happen if she stayed where she was, the end result was the same. She wasn’t doing anything and she knew she needed to, even if she didn’t know what it was. She just couldn’t continue to sit here like this.

She allowed herself a few minutes to pout and grumble in a whisper that didn’t reach beyond her own ears. She was entitled. Pan should have taken her with him. He shouldn’t have gone under that arch alone, leaving her behind. He knew how vulnerable he was if she wasn’t with him. She had made it clear enough.

Unless he hadn’t believed her. Unless he thought the King of the Silver River had lied to her or tricked her and she was being used in some secret way she didn’t understand. The thought paralyzed her momentarily. Then she gave a mental shake of her head. She didn’t believe this; of course she didn’t. The problem was that no matter what she believed, Pan might believe the exact opposite. It was difficult to accept that he wouldn’t tell her so, but no one was acting or thinking in the usual ways since the protective wall had failed and the Drouj had appeared.

“Just look at me,” she whispered.

Have faith in yourself.

The voice was in her head, but all around her, too. She cast about in surprise, but not in fear. She recognized the voice.

Panterra Qu cannot come to you. You must go to him.

“But where am I supposed to go?” she demanded, coming to her feet, continuing to look for him in vain. The King of the Silver River was there, but invisible to her. “Tell me what to do!”

She sounded more desperate than she wanted to, but she couldn’t help herself.

Go where you are led, Prue Liss. Do what your heart tells you.

“Who is going to lead me? Where will I be taken? What do you mean, ‘Do what my heart tells me?’ My heart isn’t telling me anything!”