ALL RIGHT, she told herself. All right. It
had happened. There was nothing to done now but see it through. Except
that she kept forgetting what the words meant, forgetting the words she
said, forgetting words. She was alone in a gruesome place with a man
she did not know or trust. She could not force herself to remain there
a moment longer.
'We have to go,' she said, rising. The motion, scarcely felt,
elevated her head, the line of her sight. But she could not shake the
feeling of being deep under the water, lungs bursting for air. She
wanted to swim with all her strength, upward toward the surface. But
some horrible weight, or cold serpentine grip held her down, wrapped
about her legs and ankles. That grip was her obsession. The
life-saving air was Kalus, and she knew it.
But no, her stupor-rationale insisted. It's not so. I can breathe.
I can walk. She strode to the top of the hill, feeling a moment's
release, only to find that William had followed her soundlessly, like a
shadow. And that she no longer knew where she was, or how to find her
way back.
BACK. To what?
And then the real fear, the telling blows, began to find her. Because
it seemed, it was, an overriding certainty that there was no returning.
This was reality, doubly real.
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