“Torches in their brackets cast a low shadowed light over the heavy plank walls and floor. The room had been scrubbed with agave wash and the sweat and bloodstained bedding replaced with fresh blankets. She rolled her head wearily. At least he has cleaned my cage before putting me back in it. The thought began as irony and ended in despair. She wondered if the drop-door was barred again on the outside. She knew she had regained her strength and could rise from her pallet to see if the door would... give when she pushed outward, but somehow she didn’t want to try. The heaviness and lassitude of grief weighed her down and kept her lying there, staring up at nothing. She wanted to wipe her mind of all feelings or memories, leaving it gray and featureless as a shroud. For a while she managed it, but gradually the painful thoughts crept back. Huetzin. She had attacked him, slashed his face and driven her fangs into his hand. Yet she didn’t remember. The last image in her mind was of the youth’s face as he lay in a faint before her.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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