He looked gray, and his body was shaking with effort. It was as if he was concentrating on something to the exclusion of all else, something that was taking all his remaining strength to control. With a sudden gasp Gabriel stood up and leaned against the window, arms outstretched and palms flat against the glass. Sweat ran down his face to soak into the bandages that wrapped his ruined eyes. He drew a ragged breath. “Well done, grandson,” he said, slumping back into his chair. The room filled with the scent of apples and beeswax, and Cay watched as Gabriel visibly relaxed. A look of serenity settled over him, and he gave her an exhausted smile. “Jonathan’s found the clock,” he said to Cay. “For a minute there I didn’t think I had the strength to keep my hiding place intact.” Cay’s heart leaped in her chest, and she sprang from the bed to stand by Gabriel. Whatever he’d been doing had cost him dearly; he’d shrunk into himself somehow, become less than he was. “That’s brilliant!”
