5
She was cold. She was miserable. He was a hateful man. He had taken away her shelter.
Cursing him, Joanna stepped out of the dark water of the underground lake. Shivering, she climbed the odd, stair-like rock formation onto the flat, stone slab where she had left her “new” clothes. Slipping into the shift, she held up the dress she had managed to steal from Gibby, the cook, earlier tonight.
Joanna glanced again at the dark stains on the rock, close to where she had laid her dress, and peered up into the darkness of the cavern ceiling far above her, wondering what could have produced such a mark on the rock. Shrugging, she turned her steps toward the small fire on the other side of the cavern, where she had made up a bed of rushes and straw stolen from the kitchens.
Picking up her old
