He pulled away. ‘Yes, very rude,’ agreed the major. He began a jerky, broken conversation that lasted until they reached the station, and left her puzzled at its drift and meaning. The larger problem at hand was drugging her foster sister, Shari, into a deep sleep. “Thank you. Take me to the Stone Room. “It makes me feel,” he said, “that nothing is impossible—to have you here beside me. Not once during the ceremony did the two look at each other, but riveted their gaze upon the lips of the man who was forging the bands: gazed intensively, as if they feared the world might vanish before the last word of the ceremony was spoken.
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