“How’d you know it was me?” He looked conspiratorially into the room for hidden informants. Do not be a fool, Jacques. She felt sharp animal teeth pierce her above her shoulder. Her mother was a goddess to her all through her youth, the mysterious ruler of all things beautiful and wonderful and lunar, her eyes that glinted spectral blue, as if she had the knowledge and the magic to raise the very dead. She looked more than her sixty odd years, in spite of a still lush head of black hair, streaked with a little grey, which was visible under her cap and of immediate interest to Gerald. She was beauty, the key of magic, the teacher of spells, the predictor of wars, and the gate of the future.
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