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Part Three:

They said: ‘She dwelleth in some place apart,

Immortal Truth, within whose eyes

Who looks may find the secret of the skies

And healing for life’s smart!’

I sought Her in loud caverns underground,--

On heights where lightnings flashed and fell;

I scaled high Heaven; I stormed the gates of Hell,

But Her I never found

Till thro’ the tumults of my Quest

I caught A whisper: ‘Here, within thy heart,

I dwell; for I am thou: behold,

thou art The Seeker--and the Sought.

--James H. Cousins--

Chapter Sixteen:

Under the Mountain

The safehouse was little more than a slightly fortified, run-down hovel on the edge of the town.

“What’s so special about this place?” Cole asked.

“It’s in the direct path of daylight, most of the day,” Eirwen explained. “Shades can’t survive in the light.”

“Not much help to us right now.”

“No,” she agreed, as he set her down. “Fill that bucket with snow and then bar the door.”

Cole did so, double-checking the windows were secure as Eirwen riffled through the supply caches. She found a length of bandage, ointment, needles and thread and a flask of whiskey, which she used to sterilise the needle.

“What do you need me to do?” he asked.

She lifted off her sun stone. “Hold this to the wound.”

“All right.”

He couldn’t watch as she cleaned and stitched. It was worse than when she was fixing him. She said nothing all of the time, keeping her gaze tight and focused. Cole could think of nothing to say to fill the silence, not until she was finished, and he saw the real fear in her face.

She glanced back in the direction of the tunnel, her face a white mask of a different kind of pain.

“They’ll be fine,” he assured her.

“How can you be sure?”

“If they’re half as tough as you, they’ll be fine.”