23
“You’re a Turbinta,” Cassa de Rola said, warily watching Kella.
“Yes.”
“Are you going to kill us?” the woman demanded in an exhausted voice.
Kella wrung out the warm, damp cloth and held it up. “I would not be cleaning the blood off of you if I was going to draw more,” she pointed out.
“What is your name?” Cassa asked.
Kella shrugged. “Kella,” she replied.
Cassa frowned and looked around the room. She tried to sit up, but fell back against the pillows with a soft moan. Her hand trembled when she raised it to her head.
“Where am I? Josh? Is… is he…?” Cassa asked, reaching for Kella’s hand.
Kella was surprised at the strength of the woman’s grip. She stared down at Cassa de Rola. For some reason, she thought the woman was younger than she was. Kella gently pulled Cassa’s hand bac
