“Get on your feet, titmouse,” she said. There was warmth in her tone despite the insult of address. “I have no anger toward you at present. I’ve come to understand why you lied to me. You were trying to save me, were you not? From the pain of seeing what Jacob has become? So many people have lied to me about him. My father. My mother. Under their direction, my brother also. Everyone in this village has lied to me about Jacob. Why should you be any different? Come to me. We will go deeper into this cave. I would like to lean on you. I’ve grown weary of my staff.” She put a hand on his shoulder, he put an arm around her waist. “Carry a torch,” she said. “We’ll need the light.” With his assistance, she hobbled down a corridor of sheer stone without the wooden reinforcements common to mines. Its formation was either natural or carved out so long ago it might as well have been. Under the glow of his torch, graceful images of deer, hawks, and rabbit appeared on the walls, then vanished into the dark as they passed.
