Chapter 17The woman who opened the door was perhaps sixty, and instantly maternal, calling her husband to help me inside. They questioned me as they washed and dressed my wounds and fed me a loaf of warm bread, but didn't seem bothered that I didn't answer most of their questions. I was shivering in shock and hurt, barely speaking. After she had seen me eat the better part of the loaf of bread, the good woman wrapped me in a quilt and laid me down in a soft feather bed in a loft room with no windows. I gave up caring about anything, and fell deeply asleep as I imagine daylight was rounding the horizon outside.
Horrifying dreams chased me into the day, nightmarish visions of Hunters and their prey, fires that lit the night skies and Jesse's voice condemning what he had become, what I had a
