SHORT OF BEING KNOCKED on the head I could not possibly have gone back to sleep that night, and no one else did either. Ongwynn got up, got dressed, and set about provisioning me. I dithered back to my chamber with a rushlight in hand and tried to get some clothing onto myself and some into a bag; I kept changing my mind about which should go where. Morgause drifted around my chamber like a spirit, great-eyed and silent and annoying. “I can’t think with you hovering,” I complained. “Go back to bed.” She did not, but she ghosted out after a while, then slipped back into my chamber and said, “Here,” holding something small toward me. “What?” She said nothing. I had to take it to see what it was: a ring woven of human hair. Mother’s hair. “I don’t need that.” I tried to hand it back to her. “Take it with you,” Morgause told me. “Why? I’ll be back.” Morgause just gave me the look of a big-eyed deer mouse caught in candlelight. “Oh, for the love of mercy .
