“How’s your knee?”

“It’s all right now.” The swelling was gone and the ache had subsided to what was normal during changeable weather. One thing she had liked about the black desert, despite the heat, was the constancy of its weather. There she had never awakened in the morning feeling like some infirm centenarian.

“That’s good,” Gabriel said, with a hopeful, questioning, tentative note in his voice.

“Healers do heal fast,” Snake said. “When we have good reason to.” She thrust aside her worries, grinned, and was rewarded with Gabriel’s radiant smile.

This time the sound of the door opening did not frighten Snake. She awakened easily and pushed herself up on her elbow.

“Melissa?” She turned the lamp up just enough for them to see each other, for she did not want to disturb Gabriel.

“I got the basket,” Melissa said. “The things were good. Squirrel likes cheese but Swift doesn’t.”

Snake laughed. “I’m glad you came up here. I wanted to talk.”

“Yeah.” Melissa let her breath out slowly. “Where would I go? If I could.”

“I don’t know if you can believe this, after all Ras has said. You could be a jockey, if that’s what you want, almost anyplace but Mountainside. You might have to work a little harder at first, but people would value you for who you are and what you can do.” The words sounded hollow even to Snake: You fool, she thought, you’re telling a frightened child to go out in the world and succeed all alone. She searched for something better to say.

Lying beside her, one hand flung over her hip, Gabriel shifted and muttered. Snake glanced over her shoulder and put her hand on his. “It’s all right, Gabriel,” she said. “Go back to sleep.” He sighed and the instant of wakefulness passed.

Snake turned back to Melissa. For a moment the child stared at her, ghostly pale in the dim light. Suddenly she spun away and fled.

Snake jumped out of bed and followed her. Sobbing, Melissa fumbled at the door and got it open just as Snake reached her. The child plunged into the hallway, but Snake caught up to her and stopped her.

“Melissa, what’s wrong?”

Melissa hunched away, crying uncontrollably. Snake knelt and hugged her, drawing her slowly around, stroking her hair.

“It’s all right, it’s all right,” Snake murmured, just to have something to say.

“I didn’t know, I didn’t understand…” Melissa jerked away from her. “I thought you were stronger — I thought you could do what you want, but you’re just like me.”

Snake would not let go of Melissa’s hand. She led her into one of the other guest rooms and turned up the light. Here the floor was not heated, and the stone seemed to pull the warmth out through the soles of Snake’s bare feet. She dragged a blanket off the neat bed and wrapped it around her shoulders as she took Melissa to the window seat. They sat down, Melissa reluctantly.

“Now. Tell me what’s wrong.”

With her head down, Melissa hugged her knees to her chest. “You have to do what they want, too.”

“I don’t have to do what anybody wants.”

Melissa looked up. From her right eye, the tears slid straight down her cheek. From the left, the ridges of scar tissue led tear-tracks sideways. She put her head down again. Snake moved nearer and put an arm around her shoulders.

“Just relax. There’s no hurry.”

“They… they do things…”

Snake frowned, totally confounded. “What things? Who’s ‘they’?”

“Him.”

“Who? Not Gabriel!”

Melissa nodded quickly without meeting her gaze.

Snake could not imagine Gabriel hurting anyone deliberately. “What happened? If he hurt you, I’m sure it was an accident.”

Melissa stared at her. “He didn’t do anything to me.” Her voice was contemptuous.

“Melissa, dear, I haven’t understood a word you’ve said. If Gabriel didn’t do anything to you, why were you so upset when you saw him? He’s really very nice.” Perhaps Melissa had heard about Leah and was afraid for Snake.

“He makes you get in his bed.”

“That’s my bed.”

“It doesn’t matter whose bed! Ras can’t find where I sleep, but sometimes…”

“Ras?”

“Me and him. You and the other.”

“Wait,” Snake said. “Ras makes you get in his bed? When you don’t want to?” That was a stupid question, she thought, but she could not think of a better one.

“Want to!” Melissa said with disgust.

With the calmness of disbelief, Snake said carefully, “Does he make you do anything else?”

“He said it would stop hurting, but it never did…” She hid her face against her knees.

What Melissa had been trying to say came clear to Snake in a rush of pity and disgust. Snake hugged Melissa, patting her and stroking her hair until gradually, as if afraid someone would notice and make her stop, Melissa slipped her arms around Snake and cried against her shoulder.

“You don’t have to tell me any more,” Snake said. “I didn’t understand, but now I do. Oh, Melissa, it’s not supposed to be like that. Didn’t anybody ever tell you?”

“He said I was lucky,” Melissa whispered. “He said I should be grateful he would touch me.” She shuddered violently.

Snake rocked her back and forth. “He was lucky,” she said. “He’s been lucky no one knew.”

The door opened and Gabriel looked in. “Snake — ? Oh, there you are.” He came toward her, the light glinting off his golden body. Startled, Melissa glanced toward him. Gabriel froze, shock and horror spreading over his face. Melissa ducked her head again and held Snake tighter, shaking with the effort of controlling her sobs.

“What — ?”

“Go back to bed,” Snake said, even more harshly than she had meant to but less harshly than she felt toward him right now.

“What’s going on?” he asked plaintively. Frowning, he looked at Melissa.

“Go away! I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

He started to protest, saw Snake’s expression change, cut off his words, and left the room. Snake and Melissa sat together in silence for a long time. Melissa’s breathing slowly grew quieter and more regular.

“You see how people look at me?”

“Yes, dear. I see.” After Gabriel’s reaction Snake hardly felt she could paint any more rosy pictures of people’s tolerance. Yet now Snake hoped even more that Melissa would decide to leave this place. Anything would be better. Anything.

Snake’s anger rose in a slow, dangerous, inexorable way. A scarred and hurt and frightened child had as much right to a gentle sexual initiation as any beautiful, confident one, perhaps a greater right. But Melissa had only been scarred and hurt and frightened more. And humiliated. Snake held her and rocked her. Melissa clung contentedly to her like a much younger child. “Melissa…”

“Yes, mistress.”

“Ras is an evil man. He’s hurt you in ways no one who wasn’t evil would ever hurt anyone. I promise you he’ll never hurt you again.”

“What does it matter if it’s him or somebody else?”

“Remember how surprised you were that someone tried to rob me?”

“But that was a crazy. Ras isn’t a crazy.”

“There are more crazies like that than people like Ras.”

“That other one is like Ras. You had to be with him.”

“No, I didn’t. I invited him to stay with me. There are things people can do for each other—”

Melissa glanced up. Snake could not tell if her expression was curiosity or concern, her face was so stiff with the terrible scars of burning. For the first time Snake could see that the scars extended beneath the collar of the child’s shirt. Snake felt the blood drain from her face.

“Mistress, what’s wrong?”

“Tell me something, dear. How badly were you burned? Where are the scars?”

Melissa’s right eye narrowed; that was all she could make of a frown. “My face.” She drew back and touched her collarbone, just to the left of her throat. “Here.” Her hand moved down her chest to the bottom of her rib cage, then to her side. “To here.”