As the cream spilled out onto the tree trunk and the cobblestones beneath, Carina felt energy crackle around her. Welling up from beneath the ground, traveling like lightning along the deepest roots, old power rose to envelop her. An image burned into her mind, of fire and rending and a red orb torn free, leaving a gash like a bleeding wound. There was an instant of agony, as if a clawed hand had reached into her body and torn loose her heart. In her mind, Carina saw a vision of the ground shaking, the west wing of Dark Haven collapsing in rubble, and panicked mortals running in fear. The Flow reached out to her, and the image of healing the ghost girl filled her mind. Pain, fear and desperation washed over her. Then, darkness.

"What happened?" Carina was still wearing her dress from the night's festival and lying on her own bed. Jonmarc sat beside her, holding her hand. Lisette pressed a cool cloth to her forehead. Gabriel stood in the corner opposite the fire, watching with concern.

Jonmarc shook his head, and Carina saw worry in his dark eyes. "You tell us. One minute you were presenting the offering to the tree. Then all of a sudden, you stiffened up and fell backward. Your eyes were open, but they sure weren't seeing anything. We brought you up here. It's been almost half a candle-mark."

Carina shut her eyes and swallowed, groping for words. "When I poured the cream on the tree roots, I saw a vision."

"The Crone?" Jonmarc asked with concern.

Carina shook her head. "I don't know. She recounted the vision at the foot of the tree. When she finished, Gabriel and Jonmarc exchanged glances. "And you've felt something like that before?" Gabriel asked.

Carina looked from Jonmarc to Gabriel. "Yes. Earlier today. When the ghost came."

Lisette stepped forward. "She healed the ghost girl, the one who died in the plague. I saw her."

Feeling foolish, Carina recounted what happened. But this time, she added her impression that something had been watching her. Gabriel's frown deepened.

"We assumed that healers saw no reason to come to Dark Haven because vayash moru had no need of them. We thought they were afraid. Perhaps there was another reason. Maybe they felt something here they couldn't explain, something that made them uncomfortable."

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."

Carina pulled the covers up around herself, handling the book carefully. "Has it always been the custom for the noble daughters in Principality to read and write?"

"It was fairly common when I was mortal," Lisette said. "I didn't know Raen, but she would have been alive close to the time I was brought across. A large manor is as complicated to run as any trade. A smart man wanted an educated wife to help keep the accounts."

Carina found herself drawn into the entries in the journal. Most were notes about the ups and downs of a young woman's life, with comments about parties and invitations and young men who caught Raen's eye. The lavender is blooming in the garden now. I'll have to take some for a fresh sachet. The ball is only a fortnight away. Carina turned the page. Another entry, dated just a few days after the first. Not feeling well. Hope, this passes by the ball. The rest of the pages were blank. Carina set the journal aside, lost in thought.

"Lord Jonmarc was right, m'lady. You must rest. Fear nothing. I'll watch until dawn."

Carina let herself sink into the mattress, warmed by the down comforter, her mind still on the journal and its sudden end. In the distance as she dreamed, she could hear Raen singing to her.

When Carina awoke, the first light of dawn was streaming through her windows. She lingered for a moment beneath the warm covers. Jonmarc had already left for the day's tasks, and Lisette had gone to rest. Few of the mortal servants were stirring. Dark Haven was quiet.

As Carina belted her healer's robe over her dress, she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. Raen stood in the shadows.

"Hello," Carina greeted the ghost girl. "Thank you for your song last night."

Raen moved toward the windows. The fire had warmed the room enough to fog the glass. As Carina watched, letters traced themselves in the fog. "Come."

Carina looked at Raen, perplexed. "Come where? Why?"

Another word formed as an invisible finger traced the letters. "Heal."

"You want me to heal someone? One of the ghosts?" Carina shook her head. "I don't know if it will work—I'm still not sure how I did what I did for you."

More letters appeared. "Hurt."

"All right. Let me gather my things— although if it's a ghost who needs my help, they won't be of much use."

Carina collected her pouches and opened the door. The corridor was empty. Raen glided out of the room and into the darkened hallway, visible as a green glow. Torches lit their way. Carina followed Raen down the back staircase to the second landing. The ghost halted at a door. "Those rooms haven't been restored," Carina said. "No one lives there now."

Raen glided through the closed wooden door. Carina reached for the nearest torch and took it down from the sconce on the wall. No footprints except for the scrabbling of mice marked the dust-covered floor. It was cold, and Carina shivered. "How far?"

Raen beckoned for her to follow. They passed a row of long-abandoned bedrooms. The corridor smelled musty, as if water had gotten in. At the end of the hallway a stairway descended into darkness.