“Then suddenly she shot into awareness. On the wall, Wusamequin’s form hovered before her. His face was pinched with misery; he was holding the baby in his arms, and it was limp and gray. Behind him, two wolves threw back their heads and howled like the dread Banshee of Ireland, said to herald untimely death. “Oh, no!” Isabella cried as she ran to the image. Without thinking, she reached out a hand and touched Wusamequin’s face. “It cannot be!” His face was as solid as if he stood be...fore her. She jerked her hand away, then touched his cheek, tears welling in her eyes. He did not seem as shocked as she did; then he held the baby out to her. She took it, cradling it in her arms. The little thing was not dead, but breathing very faintly. Its mouth was slack. “Mahwah,” Wusamequin said. He held out his left hand. She took it. And at once, she and he were charging through a forest, he with a bow and arrow, she carrying a spear.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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