Jonmarc looked down. "This is all my fault. I never should have brought Carina here. It's too dangerous."
Gabriel shrugged. "There's no changing it. There've been storms in the Dhasson Pass. Snow as deep as a man's waist. No one's going to be traveling anywhere."
Carina took Jonmarc's hand. "I wouldn't go if I could. This is my home now. Here. With you."
"I'm not going to let anything happen to you."
Carina smiled. "Nothing's going to. Whoever, whatever it is had the power to hurt me if it wanted to. It's more like it wants me to know something, do something."
"Promise me you won't try anything foolish," Jonmarc said.
"I promise."
Gabriel laid a hand on Jonmarc's shoulder. "We'd best return to the feast and let the guests know Carina is resting. Mention how bard she's been working with all of the patients who have come to see her. Perhaps that will keep too many stories from spreading."
Jonmarc leaned down to kiss Carina on the forehead. "I'll be back to check in on you later. Now as you're so fond of telling me, get some rest."
Carina smiled and leaned back against the pillows. "You have the makings of a great healer."
The door closed behind Jonmarc and Gabriel before Lisette spoke. "Here's something odd, m'lady." Lisette held a book in her hands. The leather binding was cracked and broken and the pages yellowed. "This book was open on the table when we came in, but it wasn't there when we left. It's a record of the families of the Lords of Dark Haven. Births, feast days, marriages, deaths. Look here," she said. Carina followed Lisette's finger. The cramped handwriting was faded with time, but she could make out the inscription.
"Raen, daughter of Lord Brentig, died in the great plague on the twenty-first day of the Crone Moon," Carina read. "Raen, is that the name of the ghost?"
"She was watching from the shadows when Lord Jonmarc carried you up here. She didn't leave until you came around. That name seems familiar." Lisette frowned and went to the bookshelves. She returned with a thin leather-bound journal. "I picked this up a few days ago-it had fallen on the floor. I thought it an accident at the time, but now, I'm not so sure."
The journal was filled with neat, feminine handwriting. The name "Raen Brentig" was centered on the page, and a date.
"That's about a year before the last great plague struck."
Carina gently touched the page. "It's almost as if she wants us to know her," she said. Lisette removed the pillows from behind her so she could lie flat. "I seem to have made a friend."