25
Fort Daniels, 27 February 1871
Chad darted across the hall to Claire’s room. The door was unlocked, and he flung it open.
A dark figure with glowing eyes swung around and pointed a finger at him.
“You’ll not break this girl’s heart again,” it said. “And if you do, it will be the death of both of you.”
“What in the name of—” Patrick muttered, but silenced when the being disappeared in a plume of golden flame that burned out, leaving them blinking the afterimage from their vision.
Chad rushed to Claire’s bed and took her in his arms. “Are you all right?”
“Yes. I think so.”
“What was that?” Chad asked. And are we all hallucinating now?
“I don’t know.” She shook again, and he sat beside her so she could lean against him.
He chafed her freezing hands. “Patrick, will you trouble Mis
