<<You are cold? In this heat>>? She pressed my hands together and brought them to her lips to warm them. It worked so remarkably well. Could Rosemary always affect me so easily?

<<Come now, don’t be cross with him>>, she intended. <<What else was he to do? The fool must have known who you were. You smell so much like him. There is no denying it. You must have taken so many of his lives, sweet one. It is a wonder you can walk around with it all twisting inside you>>.

The warmth moving through me, I seemed to come back to myself, my breath evening once more, though I had not realized I had been holding in my exhalations.

<<We should leave this place>>, Rosemary meant. <<The man here is…wicked>>.

I shook my head. We could not leave. We needed the papers. The maps, the trade routes. It would not be enough to release Rosemary from Cranley’s clutches if she were then to be doomed to roam the woods hiding from slavers. We needed to make our way to someplace where safety and freedom were the way of normalcy.

I pushed firmly on Rosemary’s shoulders, for I wished her to remain where she was, in the safety of the stairwell and far from Cranley. But when I turned to leave her there, she only followed me closely. I repeated the gesture, holding her shoulders just so that she might understand my meaning. But again, when I turned to ascend the stairs, she went with me.

One final time, I placed my hands on her shoulders, but she only pecked a kiss on my lips. <<Where you go, I go>>.

She slipped her hand in mine and held tightly. <<What word is it you humans use? For women of the same clan>>?

I forced my tears to remain at bay. Sisters. We were sisters.

Episode 77: A Bit Of Blood And A Bit Of Poison

Rosemary held a slender finger to her lips as we crept through the upper levels of the Cranley manor. The pyres who encountered her either shuffled away to another room with great haste or looked on with wide-open eyes, still in their tracks, holding candelabras or wood for burning or plates of old chicken bones for washing.

<<This way>>, Rosemary meant.

We finally arrived outside a large room, the door cracked enough that we could tell Cranley was pleasuring himself with another pyre. The sounds grated against my very soul, and I rushed forward to intervene until Rosemary clambored forward and clutched me tightly.

<<No, you must not>>, she warned. <<If we wait, he will be finished. And he will call for more food. He is always ravenous after he takes his pleasure>>.