Well, that was dumb.
As usual, Claire’s voice of reason chimed in after she was in trouble. She had a vague—weren’t most of them?—memory of someone teasing her about it, but in an affectionate way.
“What in God’s name is that?” The soldier at the door peered in, and he started toward the corner of the room where she hid. The glow behind her illuminated his wide eyes and barely whiskered face, but she focused on the weapon he aimed in her direction. She breathed as shallowly as she could, praying he would neither find her nor be startled into accidentally discharging the gun. He exuded wonderment, but mostly fear and hope that he could prove himself. The writhing light in the sphere drew him as it had her. She shrank back, and her bustle bumped a stack of crates, which shifted. They creak
