Cordus observed me again in silence. Finally he said, “‘Unfinished’ and ‘fragment’? The beast used those words, specifically?”

“I think so. That’s what I remember, anyway.”

“Fascinating,” he murmured, turning back to the deer.

He passed his hands over it once more without touching it and then reached down and cupped its nose in his palm.

The reaction was sudden and violent. The deer’s eyes shot open and it took a great, shuddering breath. Then it exploded into hundreds of small blue spheres that looked soft, almost fluid, like globules of paint. A few more spheres popped into existence, then all of them regrouped and became Justine. She lay naked on the bed, moaning groggily. The entire transformation took maybe three seconds and made no sound whatsoever.

Slowly, I got up off the floor. I didn’t feel too bad about my reaction. Even Cordus had taken a quick step back when the deer exploded. He stood there, looking down and rubbing his chin. No more bored look — I could see his eyes tracking back and forth. He was thinking furiously.

After a few seconds, he went to Justine and touched her arm. She relaxed into unconsciousness. Then he turned to me.

“Elizabeth Joy Ryder, I charge you to reveal nothing of what you have seen here. You will not speak or sing of it or depict it in a work of art. You will not encourage another to guess at it. You will not allude to it indirectly through the use of analogy or any other figure of speech. You will take no action that you suspect might violate this charge, even if I have not specifically forbade that action herein.”

All that seemed to call for a formal response, so I said, “I understand.”

He stared at me. “You must not only understand the charge, Miss Ryder, but agree to abide by it.”

“Right. Yes, I agree,” I said, flustered.

He looked around. “I shall have a second bed brought to this room. I am certain Mrs. Ryder will be confused and frightened when she wakes. Perhaps it will help if she is greeted by a familiar face.”

“Okay,” I said, “but she doesn’t like me. I don’t know how helpful it’ll be to have me here.”

I flushed and looked down, annoyed with myself. Why had I told him that? I didn’t want him to know any more about me than he already did.

“Why does she dislike you?”

I shrugged. “Jealous of the time her husband spends with me? I don’t know. It doesn’t matter.”

He did the head-tilt thing again. “Perhaps she recognized you for what you are and feared you would reveal her.”

That hadn’t occurred to me. Huh.

“I shall leave you for the night. Members of my household will see to your needs. Until tomorrow.”

He inclined his head, then turned and walked out.