Nicole was dreaming again. This time, she had awoken in a stone-walled dungeon — like the well with the skeleton girl Balancer, but it was somehow different, too. The girl in the corner was a stranger. She had short hair, a little like Amy’s, and bruises and cuts on her face. She was on her knees and whispering, a set of rosary beads circling around and around in her shaking fingers. There was the sound of drumming outside. It was grave in tone, as though it were heralding oncoming doom. The figure rose to her feet, and Nicole could see then that she was wearing armor and had a large red cross emblazoned on her torso. “Mon dieu!” she whispered, and then turned her gaze in Nicole’s direction. Nicole saw her deep blue eyes, and she realized that this was the same girl from the plane — but here she was, older. For a moment, she stared through Nicole, and then she began examining a wound in her shoulder.
