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ELIZA *The smaller of the two figures remained yet awhile after her large companion had turned to go. She remained hooded, but a single shaft of starlight came through the stained-glass window and caught for a second the twin glints of a red lock of hair that had escaped from her hood, and a white stone on the third finger of her left hand, which still held the flowers that she had brought, violets, as Galadria had ever worn on her visor when she could find them. As she leaned forward to place the flowers on the small votive shelf where the other two tributes lay, she felt the ghost of an icy breath. Suspicious, she glanced around, but saw only the dark.* Sleep well, stainless one, she then whispered.
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