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The man stared at her and his brow cleared. He smiled with a kind of wonderment. "You're a healer." A statement, not a question. "I never hoped to find such a one in a place like this."
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The moon sailed free of the shredded clouds and, as though drawn to its own likeness, flooded down onto Madeleine's hair, turning her golden curls into a gleaming beacon. She sat with Matthieu in a dinghy, her round, frightened face a pale moon on earth. Féolan was running before his mind had taken in what he had seen. Someone, somehow, had Dominic's children.
