The bloody cough did not abate, only added a raging fever to its allotment of symptoms. Father is delirious between the lambaste of the two and unable to keep down any of the cough expectorants we have on hand in the shoppe. The blood concerns me. He soaked two cloths which I held to his lips in under hour so after making him as comfortable as possible.. I hurried out to the woods behind our house.

I needed a more powerful astringent than I had in stock and the twice-writhen root of the snakeweed plant is excellent in the easing of hemorrhages. On my latest herbal excursion, I had seen several of its puffy, lavender flowers dotting a knoll deep in the woods and had marked the location in memory. I hated leaving him but there is not one in Carver's Outpost I trust to watch his fitful sleep while I find the medicine he needs.

Now, I do not take Calliope into the wilds with me, no matter that my beautiful roan could make those trips in half the time as my two short legs. The reason why was patiently waiting for me at the edge of the tree line, sleek muzzle lifted to the faint lullaby of wind in the trees. I do not tell Varda when I will return to the Amberleaf Weald but the wolf possesses an awareness beyond my ken. He knows when I can escape and is there waiting to shadow my step.

Reaching out, I offered my hand to his omniscient nose. It is our greeting of sorts, and I suppose a sign of my trust he will not snap my hand off at the wrist with those giant, steel-trap jaws of his. Today, he had snuffed at the tips of my fingers longer than normal, no doubt smelling the bloody scent of father's sickness and the bitter strains of feverfew decoction.

I was glad for Varda's silent company, no matter that I did not say anything of father's malaise. So when the forest suddenly turned as quiet as a tomb, I glanced back to the wolf, only to find him missing. Not one bird's chirp, not one breath of wind. Life's sound had died so quickly. It was an oppressive nothingness against which my slowing steps seemed the booming march of a giant.

"Varda? Varda!" I called his name softly, hoping he was close by and I simply couldn't see him. The trees pressed in on me, closing in too tight. A trickle of sweat ran down the back of my neck, bringing a shiver along for the ride. "Varda?"

"Have you lost someone, sweet Damoselle?" I whipped around to see a rider sitting calmly atop his mount. He was not ten paces from me and I heard nothing until the warm honey of his voice wrapped me up in query. All the blood in my body had sunk to my toes. I pressed a hand to my pounding heart. "Oh Sir..You..You.."

"I did not mean to frighten you. Please accept my most sincere apology." Unruffled, the stranger was a pillar of serenity but the washed-out blue of his eyes held mine with an intensity I was not accustomed to. His gaze offered no polite respite, not even when he dismounted his ebon steed and came down to my level.

"I am Asmodeus," he said. "Asmodeus. I wish to hear my name upon the lips of such a beautiful woman rather than a mere title."

[0 petals fell]