The Defender by Anne Tolar

He was lying on the hard packed ground, mostly on his right side, and he was cold. It was pitch dark, except for the million stars he could see with a slight turn of his head. It took more than a few minutes to realize how he had gotten here. He did remember that he was somewhere between Red Rock and home.

Vin would have said, Stupid! Stupid!! Stupid!!! and he would have been right. Why did it matter so much that he got back to Four Corners by tonight? Nothing special was going on, at least nothing that he could remember. Nobody knew that he was coming in... he was expected soon, but not necessarily tonight... if this was still the night of the same day when he headed out. He didn't know how long he had been here.

He remembered galloping. He had pushed his borrowed horse mercilessly. That much he remembered, and the beginning of the fall, but not the last of it. What was so important that he was willing to misuse an animal that way? Why had he pushed himself that hard, with no more thought for his own welfare than for the horse he rode.

He tried to move and groaned a very pronounced groan.

"Great!"

Right leg... busted or just bruised to the bone? At least it was below the knee... if he had to move, well, he'd done it before under worse circumstances.

He tried to sit up, but his head paid him back for the attempt with an explosion of dizziness and bright shiny lights... or were those the stars again... or did he think he saw stars the first time because he had moved his head. No... they were definitely up there.

He could feel an egg-sized knot at his hairline, but only a small, already-dried streak of blood.

He swore again... his back hurt, too. At least it hurt, and he could move, so he was mostly just really banged up. Getting where he was going wasn't going to be easy.

Where was he going?

"Oh... Four Corners... Better move... Fast... "

Something told him it was important that he move, and he tried again.

"Damn!!"

Maybe a few hours of rest would help him feel more like moving, but he was cold. He needed his blankets.

"Hell."

There was no blanket, not here and not even on that miserable excuse for a horse he rode. He felt around for his hat... maybe he could get a little warmth for his head... but he couldn't find it, and his body wasn't ready to let him move just yet.

The best thing he could hope for was daylight. Maybe by then he could spot that maniac of a horse, and find a way to get on him. Maybe this time he could stay on him. No horse had ever put him on the ground like this, especially not from a full gallop.

"Hell."

Oh, well, the man who loaned the beast to him had said he was loco... but he had thought the man was referring to him, not the horse.

Tomorrow would have to do. For now, he just lay still and wished for his bed or at least a bedroll to soften the ground. He also wished for a head that didn't ache, a stomach that wasn't growling, a bit of sleep, and at least a little hint of warmth.

He got his last two wishes. He slept, at least a little he thought, or maybe he just passed out. He stirred when a cozy warmth began to reach through his flesh and warm his blood and his bones.

He figured he had fever from the head wound. That was one possible way to feel warm, but when something slide along his back, his brain first thought snake, then coyote, and he tried to scramble to his feet. That didn't work, and the soreness of his body produced another curse.

"Be still. Fear not, Chris." The voice in the dark was feminine, very feminine... low, musical, seeming to drift past him.

That shocked him, and he tried to turn to see the one who possessed such a voice. Moving remained a very bad idea.

"Rest... I will give you warmth. No need for fear."

Why he trusted the voice, he didn't know, but he did. The warmth was what he needed most, and he accepted it without question. Then, he slept again.

He woke once more, sometime, while the stars still shined but not quite as brightly. He sensed the warmth again, and discovered that she was next to him, her body pressed tightly against his back, arms around him, breasts against his shoulder blades, legs intertwined with his own. She offered no more than warmth. All he could see of her was the beautiful hair that cascaded over his shoulder, soft blonde hair the color of something shimmering... so long, so thick, it seemed to him a blanket of finest wool. The scent of her made him think of the cool morning breezes along the river when he was a very young boy. A canteen lay against his hand, and he managed to take a small drink.

"Are you well rested? It is still dark, you need to remain warm and rest until dawn. I will keep you warm."

"Who are you? Did you call me Chris?"

Her voice swept past him, as if his mind alone heard it, rather than his ears.

"Would you rather I call you cowboy or pretend Chris is not your name?"

"No, don't call me cowboy. But how did you know my name?"

"You told me when I asked before, but you probably don't remember. I also told you that I am called Serafina Drino."

"Serafina? Nice name. Where did you come from? What are you doing here?"

"I am just passing through this country. A wanderer... always a wanderer it seems."

"You're not scared, being out in open country without somebody to take care of you?"

"It seems it is generally I who provide the care. Do you not find it is so?"

"Yeah... seems that's so... especially for me. Thanks for being my defender for now, for helping. I don't remember how I got hurt. Soon as I can get my feet under me, I'll be happy to see you where you're going."

"There is no need. And you have work to do... you must rest so that you can ride tomorrow. At least for tomorrow, the pain will not be so bad."

"What work? How do you know what I've got to do tomorrow... I don't even remember why I'm here."

"You will ride tomorrow because, if you do not, one of your friends will die. It is not time for him to die."

"How do you know this? Which friend? Where do I ride?"

"It will become known as your head clears, as you have need. Now, there is time to rest. You should rest, but you do not rest because your body is hungry. I have a small piece of jerky."

"If you have only one piece, I don't want to take it."

"I have enough for my needs. Eat and regain your strength. It is important that you finish what you must do."

"Thank you." It was a small piece, but enough. He chewed it slowly and thoroughly, tucking a small remnant in his pocket. He took another small drink of water, and then he slept again.

When he woke, his first thoughts were to discover who it was who had cared for him through the night. He raised his head... not too bad, a headache, an extremely bad one. He decided it was safe to try to move everything else, too. His back seemed to crack and creak as he tried. He felt maybe a hundred years old, but he had definitely felt much worse, so he pushed himself to his feet. Even the still wobbly leg held.

"Serafina?"

He looked for her, calling for her, surveying the mostly open terrain to locate her. It was early, and he still could feel her warmth, so she shouldn't be far away. But there was no indication that she had ever been there. No canteen, no leavings from the jerky in his pocket, no blanket... and no footprints, or hoof prints, to show that she had ever existed.

"Serafina!!"

But nobody answered. He was all alone.

"I couldn't have dreamed that! Damn spooky!"

He reached up to scratch his head, and discovered a patch of hair, with a matting of dried blood, above and to the right of his left ear. Touching the spot told him quickly why he still had a headache... he had been shot. He was lucky that he still had a head that could ache. This time he was extremely lucky. Maybe he had dreamed her after all.

He didn't know why, and he didn't know who had wanted to kill him... but it must have something to do with what Serafina had said... one of his friends was going to die if he didn't move. If he had dreamed her, it wasn't true... but he'd been shot for some reason in any case. If she was real, it was true. Since he had spent yesterday at a full gallop on a crazy horse... it must be very true.

He moved.

The horse stood not twenty feet from him, quiet and calm. With nothing to hold it there, the animal stood as if he waited for a well-known, much beloved master. It nickered as the man approached, but made no move. The last time he had mounted the beast, Chris had quickly discovered why it was named Volcano.

"Okay, I'm gonna get on you now. You try to pitch me off again, you miserable piece of shit... Hell, sore and wobbly as I am, I'll probably just fall off again... so please, just be still."

He mounted, let his head quit swimming, then headed in the direction of Four Corners at a wild, open gallop.

The horse seemed to run of its own volition. So easy was the ride today, he found himself thinking as he rode of why it mattered so much that he reach Four Corners so quickly. Evidently there was still time, if he moved. Serafina had said he had to ride today or else someone would die. They weren't already dead.

"Where was I to start with?"

He could remember the last ride. He had been to Red Rock, delivering a prisoner. He went alone... everyone else was busy. One short night on the trail, sleeping handcuffed to the miserable, but not too temperamental, crook. All it required was that he deliver the prisoner... have a beer or two... get on his horse..."

But he wasn't on his horse. He was riding a blue roan because someone had stolen his black.

"Am I tracking the thief? No... I'm headed to Four Corners."

Was the thief headed to Four Corners? Who was the thief? Somewhere between thinking and staying in the saddle, his head decided to explode.

"WHOA!!"

He fought the reins and brought the stallion to a halt, feeling it wrestle for the bit as if all it knew was the chase. "Easy, boy, easy. We both need to blow a little and get some water. Pond's just ahead, under those trees."

The horse only snorted, impatient to be gone.

"I know... we won't stop long... Buck needs us."

Buck needs me?

Even knowing that it was Buck he rode to warn, he forced himself to stop and care for his mount and himself. There were several more hours of hard riding ahead. He walked, or limped, around for a few minutes, then sat down under the trees, remembering the minutes before the black had been stolen. "Turned in Carstairs. Headed to the saloon. What was the name of that one? The River's... no the Rider's... no, the Rover's Rest... that's it."

He could remember the room. He always checked the room when he walked in a place... years of training, years of bad luck, had taught him to be certain to look before he settled in. He had opened the doors, but they didn't swing. He remembered the people, closing his eyes, and picturing them in his mind.

Poker game to the near left... four men... three drunks and a professional... make that four drunks. No problems there.

Next was a man alone sipping on a double malt whiskey, full bottle on the table... stylishly dressed... not particularly interested in anything around him... a loner, with money.

To the right, mid-room, a cowboy... a real cowboy... downing the second of what promised to be many beers... flirting with one of the girls... making her laugh, enjoying himself. Maybe trouble for the girl later, but no trouble for anyone now.

The piano was quiet... too early in the day. And at the bar... another girl and her target, the barkeep polishing glasses, and a salesman with watches...

Jericho and the hell of that work camp had popped into his head then, just as it did now.

"Shoot! Forget it!... Now who was the salesman talking to?"

He thought hard. The man was tall, older... maybe late fifties... a pale, almost sickly complexion, heavily salted hair.

He didn't get a look at his eyes... but the man's voice was demanding, and he wore clothing obviously too small for him... the britches were high water, the shirt tight across his back.

What else? What else was it about the clothes and the man that made him pay attention? A mark on the back? It wasn't a mark... it was a hole in the shirt... a hole with powder burns... and blood!! And the mark of a manacle on his wrist. He knew that type of mark well.

Chris was on his feet now, aching still, but moving, even as he tried to force the man's face into memory. It didn't matter, he would remember when he had need... she had said he would remember. Why did he trust her... someone he hadn't even seen?

The unknown man had left, striding past Chris, practically knocking him down... and then he had stolen the black. The horse was an obvious choice, the best one at the railing.

"Come on... .enough rest. Let's go find the son-of-a-bitch."

The horse snorted as if in agreement, but held still as Chris, still wishing for a head that didn't ache, mounted again. "Well, don't just stand here." And again the two of them, horse and rider, began to cover ground... one running, one riding and remembering.

Chris had been shortly after the stranger from Red Rock, as soon as he could borrow... no, hire... no, practically steal... a horse. He had thrown money at the liveryman, not asking, nor really caring, if it was enough. He appropriated the best horse and tack at will, promising to either bring the animal back or send more money. whatever was possible, but even as he spoke the promise, he was leaving at a full gallop to take back the black gelding. He remembered the liveryman's curse.

"Volcano's worth three times this, you bastard. I'm putting out a warrant."

He guessed he would have to deal with that, eventually.

But what has my stolen horse got to do with Buck?

Volcano had been worthy of his name. With ears turned forward, he had swallowed vast amounts of ground. He had run strong, responding to Chris's demands, until there was no longer anyone in the saddle to control him. Chris remembered the fall, the rising ground, but nothing else... until he remembered the stars and the warmth of Serafina.

Nearing the end of the journey, he slowed the animal, who danced sideways, still fighting for control of the bit. Four Corners lay not far in front of them now. No need to go charging in. He didn't know what or who he was looking for anyway.

He rode forward, heading for the center of town and the jail. If Buck wasn't at the jail, he'd be at the saloon... or at Blossom's place. Anyway, one of the boys would be around the jail... might as well start there.

He was right.

"Chris? What the hell happened to you? Where's the black?"

"J.D. Just a little trouble. You seen Buck anywhere?" He remained in the saddle, too interested in information at the moment.

"Not since yesterday. Where have you been? We thought you'd get back yesterday."

"What day is it?"

"Huh?"

"Took a spill... don't know if I was out one night, or maybe two."

"It's Monday. You fell off a horse? I thought you could ride!"

"Damn! I must be missing more than one day." He had still felt her warmth when he woke up... just how long had she stayed by him, holding him, warming his body with her own?

Nathan walked out from the jail, and noticing the now purple bruise on Chris's forehead, instantly began to give orders. "And from the looks of it, you're almost missing your head. Get down from there! Let me check you over!"

"No time, Nathan. Got to find Buck. You know where he is?"

"He's gone. Get down, now, you hear. He'll be back in a bit. He and Vin are trying to pick up the tracks of an escaped killer from Yuma. Supposed to be headed this way."

"Which direction did they head?"

"Toward Yuma, where else? Get down. You might as well let me look you over. Where's the black?"

"Stolen. I'm tracking the fella who took him. He was heading this way. Now I'm beginning to wonder if we're all looking for the same man."

"Seems likely. Last time I'm going to tell you, though... Get on down now, hear!"

"Hell, Nathan... I haven't got time... I'm fine..." but he dismounted even as he protested. When his feet touched ground, his bad leg wobbled, threatening to give way.

"When you ever going to just say you hurt like hell?"

"Now would seem like a real good time. Shit!" He leaned into the horse as his back creaked and groaned, and as the landscape seemed to tilt precariously to one side.

"Come on, J.D. Let's get him to my place."

"How about Ezra's... fewer stairs, nice cool beer?" Before they could corral him, Chris headed in his own direction.

Nathan placed himself in front of the man, "Anything broken beside your head?"

"Not that I know of... just bruised and sore as hell, and a king-sized headache."

"Okay, then. Saloon."

With Chris leading his borrowed horse, the three of them ambled down the street toward Ezra's place. Nathan noticed immediately the limp and the accompanying groan.

Sitting there, Chris decided on rye whiskey when he found out Nathan intended to reopen and stitch his scalp. After two doubles, he let the man begin. "Remember, you're not digging a trench up there."

"Shut up, Chris... and sit still. This ain't no little scratch... who shot you?"

"Shot him?" J.D. looked past Nathan's hands to inspect the wound.

"Nice little bullet burn here. Rifle shot... long distance probably. I said be still, Chris."

"Then hurry up! I need to find Buck."

"He'll be back... why you in such a hurry?"

"'Cause he's got trouble that he doesn't know about."

"What kind of trouble?"

"I don't remember, yet."

"Then you ain't going no place. Probably got a concussion from this wound or the fall or something. If you don't remember what it's about, why do you need to find him this minute?"

"'Cause she said I'd remember when I needed to remember. If I don't find him, Buck's gonna die."

"She? What she? Did I tell you Mary was looking for you?"

"Damn, J.D.! Not now. She's just going to have to wait. Nathan, are you through yet?"

"Last one... but who is this she you're talking about?"

"I don't know who she is... her name's Serafina."

"Okay... got a name. Where'd you meet her?"

"I didn't... not exactly."

"Then how do you know her?"

"She found me between here and Red Rock, when I was down. She kept me warm, fed me, got me water."

"Sounds like she saved your life. What she look like?"

"I don't know, Nathan. I just don't know."

"Woman saves your life, and you don't even know what she looks like?"

"Shoot, J.D... .I only know she was there... kept me warm, but when I woke up, she was gone. All I know is, she had long, blonde hair, a really pretty voice, and she smelled good."

"Who had long blonde hair?" Vin stood in the doorway, walking quickly to inspect what Nathan was doing. "Close call, there, Chris. And just exactly how do YOU know what she smelled like?"

"I don't know."

"You know her well enough to like her perfume, the color of her hair, how pretty her voice was, and you knew her well enough to have her lay beside you, but you don't know anything about her? And you're late getting back again? Pard, you're gonna have some mighty tall explaining to do.

"Hell! Mary's never gonna believe this... even if it is the truth. You find your man?"

"Nope. Hell, Chris, we lost him at Red Rock. Found out he left there about three days ago."

"Red Rock... Three days ago... means I lost about two."

"He left on a stolen horse. What did you say?"

"The horse he stole was my horse. When I got here and found out you and Buck were on the hunt, I thought we might be on the same one. Where is Buck?"

"Went to see Blossom, where else. We're supposed to head out again tomorrow morning."

"Stick around here."

"Why?"

"Buck's got trouble coming. Best if he's with all of us when it comes."

"You think he's got trouble?"

"No, I know he's got trouble."

"From who?"

"I don't know his name, don't know what his face looks like... but I'll know him when it's time. Have you seen a big guy, older, lots of gray hair, wearing clothes that are about a half size too small?"

"That the one who stole your horse?"

"Yeah, he stole my horse... and I think he might be the guy you're hunting."

"Just because he's a horse thief don't mean he's a killer."

"Maybe not, J.D., but that shirt he was wearing might."

"A shirt."

"Shirt had a hole in it... right in the middle of the back... powder burns and blood. Don't think it was his shirt or his blood... or else he's got more lives than a cat."

"Prisoner killed a man getting away. Took his clothes."

"Makes sense, Vin. Pulls it all together. Let's get Buck."

"Why bother him. He's with Blossom."

"And we don't know where the killer is. Who is he anyway? Why would he want Buck?"

"Buck sent him up... years ago... nearly fifteen years ago."

"Damn! He's risking getting shot on sight just to get to Buck?"

"Promised he'd do it one day... looks like he's a man who keeps his word."

"Let's get Buck."

"Chris, you need to sit still a while. You head's bound to hurt. Just let these stitches settle. You're favoring your right leg, and I haven't checked it yet, or your back, either."

"But--"

"Hell, Chris, he's just a couple of streets away... I'll go get him."

"Okay, Vin, go, but watch your back... and his too."

Chris sat still while Nathan examined the leg. "Nothing broke, Chris, but it's sure bent... must be bruised all the way down. I'm gonna tie it up for a couple of days--"

"Not now. Let it alone."

"Everything's gonna be all right. You gotta let it rest."

"Not now. It'll keep." He sat and slowly sipped another whiskey while he waited for his friends. He closed his eyes, and almost instantly he slept."

"Leave him alone, J.D... just let him sleep. No need to pester him. Vin can handle this."

"It is not time for him to die. It is important that your finish what you must do." Her voice swept past him again, as if his mind alone heard it, rather than his ears. "Finish what you must do."

He was instantly awake, on his feet and moving toward the saloon doors... the ones that swung.

"Chris, where you going? Come back here." Nathan watched him move, then followed him to be certain he was all right.

He walked onto the street of Four Corner, not knowing why, only knowing that she told him to go. Only knowing that it was important that he go. Buck needed him.

As his right boot cleared the boardwalk, spurs chiming in rhythm with his steps, he noticed a man on horseback approaching from the area near Bucklin's and the church. He was riding easy. Chris had no idea who he was. Riding easy... no problem.

From a side street, Vin and Buck, talking and laughing, walked purposefully toward the saloon. Obviously involved in a moment of devilment, neither paid any attention to the rider who approached. Buck, as always when he sensed no danger, walked with his rifle slung casually across his shoulder. Vin mirrored his easy moves, enjoying the camaraderie.

Only Chris saw.

The horse beside him, the roan, pawed the ground, eyes wild, ears flattened against its head. The horse coming down the street could only be one... the black... head high, ears twitching forward and back, prancing nervously under the touch of the still strange hands. And then the black raised its nose and screamed. Whether the animal sensed Chris, the stallion, or only the tension in the air, Chris never knew.

"Buck!!! Vin!!! Get down!!!!"

The .45 was aimed at Buck's back. The muzzle flashed as it cleared the black's saddle, coming up in the man's hand. The glint of the eyes of the man with the graying hair and too small shirt was cold and determined.

Chris's move was just a determined. His pearl handled .44 cleared the holster as he dove behind the nearest water trough. He fired all the rounds it held without hesitation, not knowing the name of the man who pitched from the saddle of the horse then lay dead in the street.

People began to gather from the stores along the boardwalk. Nobody was exactly surprised to find their protectors involved in another attempt to rid their community of the bad elements that came to call.

Chris crawled slowly to his feet, reloading his gun before he holstered it. His body was in agony from this latest abuse, but he knew it would pass. The black, untouched by the bullets that took the rider from his back, screamed again and, pulling the reins free from the dead man's grip, came quickly through the people around to stand at Chris's hand.

"Damn, Stud! I never saw him. Never knew he was there. How'd you know?" Buck and Vin were picking themselves up from the dirt, brushing the stubborn dust and grime from their clothes.

"Just knew. She said I'd know."

"Who?"

"I don't know. Name was Serafina. I don't know who she was, but she saved my life." He put his hand to his head, feeling again the headache that refused to die out.

"Serafina?" Buck grew still and turned a decidedly paler shade. "You sure?"

"Yeah, Serafina... why? Do you know her?"

"Not really... but I got to know a woman named Serafina once. What did she look like?"

"Don't know... except she had long, thick, blonde hair. You say you got to know her?"

"Yeah, sounds like her. I was the last one to hold her, and then, I helped bury her."

"What?" It was Chris' turn to grow more pale... and very suddenly he felt very, very cold.

"He beat her. He always beat her. Do you know who you just killed?"

"No... never met him... but she said I'd know him when it was time. Wanted me to save you. Said it wasn't time for you to die."

"I'll be damned."

"Who was he?"

"Name was Lucious Fiend... God's truth... that was his name. Fifteen years ago, he killed one of the most beautiful, sweetest, kindest women I'd ever put eyes on. Walked up to her on the street, and simply put a bullet in her heart."

"Why'd he kill her?"

"Because she was beautiful, and she was his wife, but she was walking through town with me. Just walking... just walking, Chris. We were just friends... she wouldn't have considered anything else. She died in my arms."

"There wasn't anything you could have done?"

"No... happened too fast. I had a feeling in my gut that she must have been near to being an angel, but she was married to Lucifer himself. She laughed one day and told me that, if he managed to kill her, she'd haunt him until the day he died."

"Woman I met was named Drino... Serafina Drino."

"So it was her. She told me her name, before they married, was Drino. Serafina Drino... even told me what it meant."

"What did it mean?"

"Serafina means angel, and Drino means she was supposed to defend men, or mankind. She just didn't think she'd have much time to finish her job."

"Well, Buck. I'd say she's got all the time there is to finish the job now."

"Why's that, Stud?"

"'Cause last night she finished defending me, and today she got me to defend you. And she finally got even with old Lucifer, too. I'd say, she's finally finished it all."

"Yeah. Yeah. Maybe she can be happy now."

Suddenly, Chris collapsed to the ground, folding into a still pile of black clothing.

"Nathan!!!" Vin and Buck gathered him up and carried him quickly to their healer's office.

The examination was slow and tedious, but Nathan finally emerged with a smile. "Just wore out. He woke up a little... eyes are okay now, concussion probably easing off. Still got the headache, though. We just need to let him sleep it off. Put a splint on his leg to slow him down. Come on... if he wakes up, he's not going to hurt himself if he moves around. He just needs a little rest."

"Good news." Buck hooked his thumbs into his suspenders, relieved that all would be well. "I think we all need to just make a little visit to the saloon. Shoot, that's where he'll look when he wakes up anyhow."

He woke sometime later, he didn't know how long he had been here. It was pitch dark, except for the low-burning lamp on the bedside table. It took more than a few minutes to realize how he had gotten here. He did remember that he was home and figured he was probably at Nathan's... not surprising to wake up here.

Tomorrow he would try to move again. For now, he just lay still and appreciated the bed and the fact that his head didn't ache nearly as much. He wished he understood more about why she had come to him.

He got his last wish. He stirred when a familiar scent reached him and warmth began to soothe his flesh.

"Be still. Fear not, Chris." The voice in the dark was feminine, still feminine... seeming to drift past him. She was next to him, her body pressed tightly against his back, arms around him, breasts against his shoulder blades, legs intertwined with his own.

"Are you well rested? It is dark now. You need to remain warm and rest until dawn. I will keep you warm."

"Serafina? Where did you come from? How did you find me to start with?"

"I am just passing through this country. Always a wanderer it seems. Much like you."

"I think I've quit wandering. What about you? Did today give you rest?"

"Yes... peace, at least. He will hurt no one else."

"How did you find me? Why did you choose me?"

"I have followed him since the day I left life so unexpectedly. The oath I made to haunt him bound me to him. When he broke free and came after Buck, I was with him still. When he ran into you in the saloon, I sensed I had found the defender I was destined to find... the one meant to end my captivity, to give me peace. You were the one who could stop him. You were the one who would protect my friend. Buck was the only friend I ever dared to have after I married that man. Buck did not deserve to die."

"No... one of the most decent men I know."

"Much like you."

"You don't know me. Most don't call me a decent man... just a gunslinger, sometimes a bad element. What made you think different?"

"I felt your good heart, and I sensed your courage and your strength. I was right."

"How did you know you had found the right one?"

"You rode. Even hurt, even with no proof of what I told you, you rode only knowing that someone would die if you did not. You were the man who would prevail. You were a man who could survive, and you would keep Buck safe. Now, you are warm, and you will rest. Tomorrow you will hurt, but then it will pass. It is enough, and we are finished. I will bid you farewell."

"Serafina? Serafina?" He raised his head to look for her. It was early morning and dark, but he could still feel her warmth. Nobody answered. He was all alone.

THE END