He reached out, but she waved him off. “I am well enough. I do not need a fire.”

     Even as she spoke, he heard the chatter of her teeth.  “Shock plays upon your mind and body. You must stay warm. A fire will keep animals away from the scent of death. Trust that I will not harm you.”

 

    She shook her head, and started to depart, then staggered to a halt. Her face paled. The dagger fell from her fingers.

 

    Her voice hummed like the breeze on the bodhran drum. “No, Rhys of Gwyddor...the fire has ended it. All is lost.”