“Are you kidding? It’s got to beat the hell out of . . . Christ on a crutch!”

“I know. I’m sorry.” But she gritted her teeth and continued to swab the disinfectant over the cuts. “Keep talking. We’ll get through this.”

Alarmed, Moe deserted the field by slinking off the bed and crawling under it.

Jordan did his best to breathe through the pain. “The Curtain of Power. I was behind it,” he said and told her.

“You provoked him? Deliberately?” She sat back, all the interest and concern on her face shifting into irritated impatience. “Do you have to be such a man?”

“Yes. Yes, I do. Added to that, he was going to do whatever he was going to do. Why shouldn’t I get a couple of swings in first, even if they were only verbal?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Let me think.” Sarcasm dripping from each word, she tapped a finger to the side of her head. “Maybe because . . . he’s a god.”

“And you’d’ve stood there, of course, hands folded, having a polite conversation?”

“I don’t know.” She blew out a breath and finished the bandaging. “Probably not.” Deciding that she’d done her best, she bent over and dropped her head between her knees. “I don’t ever want to have to do that again.”

“That makes two of us.” Stiff, still achy, he turned so he could run his hand up and down her back. “I appreciate it.”

She managed what passed for a nod. “Tell me the rest.”

“You just cleaned and bandaged the rest. Whatever he did felt just the way this looks. Actually, it felt considerably worse.”

“You screamed.”

“Do you have to keep saying that? It’s embarrassing.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I screamed, too. I woke up and you were—it looked like you were having a convulsion. You were dead white, bleeding, shaking. I didn’t know what the hell to do. I guess I panicked. I grabbed you, started shouting. You went limp. Almost as soon as I touched you, you went limp. I thought—for a minute I thought you were dead.”

“I heard you.”

She stayed where she was another moment, fighting back tears again. “When?”

“After I hit the dirt the second time. I heard you calling for me, and it was like getting sucked back into the old transporter. I heard him, too, right as I was fading out. I heard him, but more inside my head. ‘I’m not finished,’ he said. ‘I am not finished.’ And he was royally pissed. He couldn’t keep me there. He wasn’t done with me, but he couldn’t keep me there.”

“Why?”

“You woke up.” Reaching out, Jordan ran his fingers over her cheek. “You called me. You touched me, and that brought me out.”

“Human contact?”

“Maybe as simple as that,” he agreed. “Maybe just that simple—when the humans are connected.”

“But why you?” She picked up the cloth and dabbed at the cut on his lip. “Why did he take you behind the Curtain?”

“That’s something we have to figure out. When we do—ouch, Dana.”

“Sorry.”

“When we do,” he repeated as he nudged her hand away, “we’ll have more of the pieces for this particular puzzle.”

SIMPLE or complex, Dana needed answers. With Moe hanging his head blissfully out the passenger window, she drove to Warrior’s Peak to get them. Research and speculation were one thing, but her lover’s blood had been shed. Now she wanted cold, hard facts.

The trees were still bright, and their color splashed across a dull gray sky layered with sulky clouds. But more leaves littered the road and the floor of the forest.

Already past their peak, she thought. Time was moving forward, and her four weeks were down to two.

What did she think? What did she know? She ran through everything that came to mind as she drove the last miles and then through the gates.

Rowena was in the front garden, gathering some of the last of the fall blooms. She wore a thick sweater of deep blue speckled with dull gold, and to Dana’s surprise, well-worn jeans and scuffed boots.

Her hair was tied back and rained in a sleek tail between her shoulder blades.

The country goddess in her garden, Dana thought, and imagined Malory would see it as a painting.

Rowena lifted a hand in a wave, then a smile lit up her face as she spotted Moe.

“Welcome.” She ran to the car as Dana parked, opened the door for the exuberant Moe. “There’s my handsome boy!” Her laugh rang out as Moe leaped up to kiss her face. “I was hoping you’d pay me a visit.”

“Me or Moe?”

“Both are a delightful surprise. Why, what’s this?” She put her hand behind her back, then brought it out again. She held out a huge Milk Bone that caused Moe to moan with pleasure. “Yes, it certainly is for you. Now if you’ll sit and shake hands like a gentleman . . .”

The words were barely out of her mouth when Moe plopped his butt on the ground, lifted his paw. They exchanged a shake, a long look of mutual admiration. He nipped the treat delicately out of her fingers, then sprawled at her feet to chomp it to bits.

“Is it a Dr. Doolittle thing?” Dana wondered, and got a puzzled glance from Rowena.

“I’m sorry?”

“You know. Talking to the animals.”

“Ah. Let’s say . . . in a manner of speaking. And what can I offer you?” she asked Dana.

“Answers.”

“So sober, so serious. And so attractive this morning. What a wonderful outfit. You have such a smart collection of jackets,” Rowena commented as she ran a finger down the sleeve of the dull-gold tapestry fabric. “I covet them.”

“I imagine you can whip one up just as easy as you did that dog biscuit.”

“Ah, but that would take the fun, and the adventure, out of shopping, wouldn’t it? Would you like to come in? We’ll have some tea by the fire.”

“No, thanks. I don’t have a lot of time. We’re settling on our property early this afternoon, so I’m going to have to start back pretty directly. Rowena, there are some things I need to know.”

“I’ll tell you what I can. Why don’t we walk? Rain’s coming,” she added, casting a look at the sky. “But not for a bit. I like the heavy, anticipatory feel to the air before a rain.”