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18. Dryas
18 Dryas On the way back to the little house that we have rented, I keep an eye on Rue. Her red hair has been tamed into a long rope braid. She wears a white linen dress with tiny black buttons down the front, a dress that makes my fingers itch with the need to undress her. She stares at her feet, lost in thought. A photograph in clutched in her hands, but she has not yet told me what it is a picture of. Whatever she learned from Ana, it has made her almost disconsolate. I share a look with Damen, who just glances at Rue and shrugs. As we get back to the shabby front yard of the rental, I make a signal to Damen to find somewhere else to be. He fades into the background silently. I follow Rue into the little house and close the door, catching her hand. I pull her back and press her clo
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