CHAPTER TWELVE
Stephania experienced the world in brief moments snatched from between dreams. It became a thing of fragments to her, making no more sense than the sleeping world did, too brief to count as something real. She was in a room somewhere, but she could never stay awake long enough to get the details. Every time she flickered back to waking, the old woman was there.
“Drink,” she said, pushing water to Stephania’s lips.
Stephania could taste the herbs there: valerian and opium, maybe more. She still drank, not even trying to fight as the blackness claimed her.
She was in a maze. She knew that even before the first turnings appeared. There were tall hedges on either side, towering over Stephania so that she couldn’t see beyond. She started taking turnings. Stephania knew the tr
