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I obey, pressing the stone between our hands.Marga?I plea silently.Can you hear me?
“No, she can’t.” Athene has one finger on the stone as she nudges it into a secure position. “You have to speak out loud.”
That means both Athene and Gregor will be listening to at least half the conversation. I take a deep breath. “Marga?”
Catrin? Cat?
I lean forward, wrapping my left hand around our joined ones. “I’m here, Marga!”
Marguerite’s relief floods into me with her voice.I’m so glad to see you. Or hear you. I can’t see anything.
“I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner.”
You’re here now. That’s what matters.
“Very good,” says Athene. “Ask her if she has any pain she can identify.”
Who is that?
“The physician who is caring for you,” I tell her.
Selenae?Fear ripples through our connection. Sister Berta’s influence.
I won’t lie, even if Marguerite might never know otherwise. “Yes. She’s doing everything she can to help you.”
I will trust her if you do.Marguerite pauses.I have some pain on the back of my body, but not bad. More like a pressing ache.
I repeat that for Athene, who nods. “That’s from lying flat and motionless, but feeling it means there is less damage in the brain.”
“Do you remember anything from last night?” I ask Marguerite. “Did you see the man who hurt you?”
There’s a pause, like she’s thinking.Mother said she expected a late visitor, and I heard her let him in. There was a crash, like she fell, so I left my cell and called out to her.Marguerite’s stress rises.A man came out of her sitting room. I screamed and turned to run when something threw me into the wall.
“Did you recognize him?” I ask.
No, he was just a dark shape. Wearing a cloak. I’m sorry.Her thoughts grow weak with misery.
“Don’t worry about that,” I tell her.
“Enough,” Athene interrupts. “If you don’t guide her back to consciousness soon, we could lose her forever.”
I clench Marguerite’s hand tighter, as though that will keep her from slipping away. “How do I do that?”
“The mind is like a forest with many paths,” Athene explains. “She is essentially lost in the wilderness between. You must enter that forest and lead her back to the known paths.”
Her analogy is concerning. “Can I get lost in this… forest?”
Athene shakes her head. “You can only walk in your own, but your forests overlap where you have shared memories. If you can get her on strong paths for long enough, hopefully she will reach a point where she can continue on her own.”
I ease my grip, worried I may be hurting her. “Did you hear that, Marga? Do you understand what we need to do?”
Yes. I understand. But it’s so dark.The thoughts are almost sluggish, like she’s dozing off.
“Remind her of something you used to do together,” Athene prompts. “A memory she will have recalled several times over the years. Well-worn paths are easier to find.”
I close my eyes and think of the days we shared a room. “Do you remember sewing doll clothes together?” I ask. “Using fabric scraps from the weaving room?”
My dolls were always dressed as sisters.
