Rachel glanced back over her shoulders. Cadmus was watching his tormentor, the terror on his face replaced with a blank look, as though he was too used up by what he'd endured to even weep.

You may stay with him if you wish, the woman went on. You won't have to wait very long. He's only got a few more breaths left in him.

"I don't want to watch him die," Rachel protested.

Where's your sense of history? the woman replied. She rose as she spoke, and dropped the last defenses she'd put up against Rachel's gaze. She was perhaps the most beautiful woman Rachel had ever seen; her glorious face had about it the same nakedness that Rachel had seen in Galilee's face, that first night. Skin and nerve and muscle and bone all extolling one another.

Now she understood what the woman meant when she talked about a sense of history. She was a Barbarossa, attending the death of a Geary.

"Are you his sister?" Rachel said.

Sister?

"Galilee's sister?" (

The woman made a tiny smile. No. I'm his mother: Cesaria Yaos Barbarossa. And you… who were you before you were a Geary?

"My name was Pallenberg."

Rachel Pallenberg.

"Right."

Tell me… do you regret it? Marrying into this wretched family?

Rachel contemplated the question before replying. Perhaps it would be politic to tell the woman that she regretted it heart and soul, but she couldn't bring herself to do so. It wasn't true. There were losses and gains, as in everything.

"I thought I loved my husband, and I thought he loved me," Rachel said. "But I was in love with a lie."

And what was that?

"That I'd be happy once I had everything-"

-even though you lost yourself?

"Almost," Rachel said. "Almost lost."

Tell me: is your husband here in the house?

"No."

Just the women out there? Cesaria said, glancing toward the door.

"Don't hurt them," Rachel said. "They're good people."

I told you, I didn't come here to hurt anybody. I came to bear witness.

Rachel glanced at the destruction on all sides. "So why do this?"

He annoyed me, Cesaria said, trying to bargain with me. "Leave me alone and I'll give you whatever I've got." Her eyes flickered in Cadmus's direction. You've got nothing I want, old man, she said. Besides, this house needs to be cleansed from top to bottom. He knows why. He understands. It's time to strip

away all the pretense. All the comforting things he collected to make him feel like a king. It all has to go. She began to walk back in Cadmus's direction. In the end, it'll be easier for him to move on, when there's nothing to keep him here.

"If you want to wreck the house," Rachel said, "that's one thing. But he's just a sick old man, and sitting here watching him bleed to death is cruel." Cesaria stared at her. "You don't think it's cruel?"

I didn't ask myself, Cesaria said. But yes, probably. And let me tell you, he deserves a lot worse, for the things he's done.

"To you?"

No, to my son. To Atva. Or as he prefers it: Galilee.

"What did Cadmus ever do to Galilee?"

Tell her, Cesaria said. Go on. Tell her. You'll never have another chance, so say it! Rachel looked back at Cadmus, but there was no answer forthcoming. He'd hung his head, whether out of exhaustion or shame Rachel didn't know. Did you thinkyou were so secret that nobody saw? Cesaria went on. I saw. When you made my child murder your own flesh and blood. I saw. There was a barely audible sob out of Cadmus. Tell her it's true, Cesaria said. Don't be such a coward.

"It's true…" Cadmus murmured.

Does your wife know, by the way? Cesaria said.

Very slowly, Cadmus raised his head. If he'd looked sick before, he looked a dozen times sicker now. There was no blood left in his face; his lips were bluish, his eyes and teeth yellow. "No," he said.

Let her in, Cesaria told Rachel. I want her to know what he hid from her. And tell the servant to leave. This is family business.

Though Rachel didn't much like being treated like a servant herself, she didn't argue with the instruction. She dutifully went to the door, which opened without effort. Both Loretta and Jocelyn were waiting there, Jocelyn sobbing uncontrollably.

"Why did you lock the door?" Loretta demanded.

"I didn't," Rachel told her. "Cesaria Barbarossa's in there with Cadmus. She wants you to come in. And she wants Jocelyn out of the house."

"Cesaria…?" Loretta said, her strident tone dropping to a murmur. "How did she get in?"

"I don't know," Rachel said, moving aside to allow Loretta a glimpse into the sickroom. "She says she's come to watch Cadmus die."

"Well she's not going to have the pleasure," Loretta said, and pushing past Rachel stepped through the door.

"What should I do?" Jocelyn wanted to know.

"Just leave."

"Shall I call Garrison?"

"No. Just get out of the house. You've done what you can."

It was clear from the fearful expression on Jocelyn's face that she wanted to go; but deep-seated loyalty was preventing her from doing so.

"If you don't go now," Rachel warned, "you may not get another chance. You've got your own family to think of. Go."

A look of relief crossed Jocelyn's face; here were the words that let her go with a dear conscience. "Thank you," she said, and slipped away.

Rachel closed the door after her, and turned back to face the events of the room. Loretta had already decided on her method of dealing with Cesaria: head-on attack.

"You don't have any business being here," she was saying. "You're trespassing in my house and I want you out."

This isn't your house, Cesaria said, her eyes fixed not on Loretta but on the man still squatting against the wall. And it isn 't his either. Loretta started to protest but Cesaria waved her words away. My son built this house, as he-she pointed at Cadmus-well knows. He built it with the blood he spilled to make you your fortune. And the seed he spilled.

"What are 'you talking about?" Loretta said. Her tone, though still assertive, was tinged with unease, as though she knew there was truth in what she was hearing.

Tell her, Cesaria said to Cadmus. The figure crouched in the shadows shook its heavy head. Cesaria took a step toward Cadmus. Old man, she said. Get yourself up off the floor.

"He can't-" Loretta said.

Shut up, Cesaria snapped. You heard me, old man. I want you up.

As the instruction left her lips Cadmus's head rolled backward, so that now he was looking straight up at Cesaria. Then, inch by quivering inch, he started to rise, his back pressed against the wall; but not of his own volition. His legs were too wasted to bear him up this way. This was Cesaria's doing. She was raising him by sheer force of will.

It seemed he was not entirely unhappy to be puppet-eered this way. A tight-lipped smile had crept onto his face, as though in some perverse way he was taking pleasure in being handled this way; in feeling the woman's power upon him.

As fascinated as she was appalled, Rachel crossed the room and went to stand at Loretta's side. "Please, don't do this," she said to Cesaria. "Let him die in peace."

He doesn't want to die in peace, Cesaria replied. Then, to Cadmus: Do you? It's better to suffer now, because that way you think you will have paid your debts. Isn 't that what you hope?

Cadmus made the tiniest of nods.

You may be right, by the way, Cesaria said. I don't have any better idea of what waits for you than you do. Maybe your soul's free after this. Maybe it's the ones you leave behind who'll pay the real price. She took another step toward him. Your children. Your grandchildren. Your wife. She was so close to him now she could have touched him. But she didn't need to make physical contact; she had a profound hold on him: that of her will and her words.