“The demon ate them,” Newlin said.
“We would at least find bones,” Cree snapped, annoyed that the man insisted it was a demon at work. “The demon prefers peoples’ entrails.”
“Not all demons,” came the soft whisper.
“Flora, what are you doing out of bed?” Newlin scolded and went to his niece.
She waved him off, saying, “I am better.”
A slight pink graced Flora’s cheeks, a marked improvement since Dawn had last seen her and her long, dark hair was neatly braided. There was also an alertness to her dark eyes that had not been there previously. It was almost as if she had finally fully woken from her nightmares ready to face life once again.
“What do you know of demons?” Cree asked.
“Flora knows nothing of such things,” Newlin was quick to say.
Flora shook her head and joined them at the table, her voice strained as she spoke. “My uncle tries to protect me from my knowledge, thinking it does me more harm than good. My father was a scholar, another thing my uncle prefers not to admit. My father believed knowledge was mightier than the sword.”
“Until someone raises a sword against you,” Newlin said, “then what do you do?”
Flora ignored him and continued. “My mother was the daughter of a scholar, who taught her well, and she had the same hunger for knowledge as my father. Unfortunately, women are denied knowledge and so my father taught her what he learned and permitted her to travel with him on research excursions.”
“They should have never taken you on the ones they did,” Newlin said. “Some were much too dangerous for a young lass.”
Once again, Flora ignored her uncle and continued talking. “I recall my father discussing demons with colleagues.”
“Ethan allowed you to join his discussion with colleagues?” Newlin asked, shock obvious in his wide eyes.
Flora shook her head. “Of course, he didn’t. It would never be permitted. I simply knew where to hide to listen and learn.” She continued, even though it was a struggle for her to speak. “Perhaps what I learned will be of help to you. Demons are not all the same. They come from different groups of people who hold different beliefs. To find your particular demon, you would need to know what demon people, hereabouts, believe exists.”
Dawn nudged Cree in the side.
Her nudge was a reminder of what Cree should share, and he did. “A friend warned of an ancient myth buried in time. She spoke of a time of upheaval when battles were never-ending and peace seemed impossible. During that time, it was believed that evil rose up in the land to swallow people whole. Young or old, it did not matter, they simply vanished without a trace. It was believed that a crack in the earth allowed demons to escape and they captured the innocent to serve their evil needs.” He shrugged. “Truth or tale, who knows? But she advised caution since most tales begin with a grain of truth to them.”
“You would be wise to follow her caution until proven otherwise,” Flora said, her voice a scratchy whisper.
“Auda has warned you repeatedly to rest your voice,” Tavia said upon entering the room. “You would not deal well with losing your voice completely.” She gasped at her own words and turned to Dawn to apologize. “Forgive me, my lady. That was cruel of me to say.”
“Why was it cruel? Why should Lady Dawn care if I never speak again?” Flora asked, curious.
“Enough, Flora,” Newlin commanded. “You never know when to hold your tongue.”
Dawn shook her head, looking from Tavia to Newlin, then smiled at Flora. She tapped her lips and shook her head.
“Are you saying you have no voice?” Flora asked, her own voice a mere whisper and leaned forward across the table, her eyes wide with interest.
Dawn nodded.
“However, did that happen?” Flora asked without thinking, then shook her head.
“I don’t usually speak for my wife, since voice or no voice, she speaks well enough for herself—she even talks too much sometimes—but I will answer for her this time. Dawn was born without a voice.”
Dawn poked him playfully in the arm, tapped her lips, and shook her head.
“Aye, there are times you talk too much,” Cree said with a grin.
Flora watched in amazement as the couple conversed with ease.
“Please, Flora,” Tavia cautioned when she saw her ready to speak. “You must rest your voice if you are to heal.”
Dawn pointed to her ear, then to Tavia and nodded.
“You tell me to listen to Tavia,” Flora said easily understanding the woman’s gesture. “You communicate so easily. I would love to speak with you more.” She turned to Tavia before she could speak up. “When my voice has improved.”
Tavia smiled and filled a tankard with hot cider to hand to Flora.
Dawn tapped her lips and pointed to Flora.
Tavia interpreted before Flora could say anything. “Lady Dawn looks forward to speaking with you.”