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The last time he had felt anything like this something was terribly wrong.Stepping out of the lift Demus headed across the narrow metallic hall opening a door.Inside glass shards covered the floor along with dozens of bodies. Talas saw their resemblance to his master and understood now why his master had kept this place secret.On the far side of the two survivors stood: one wounded at the shoulder with a glass shard imbedded there and the other picking himself of the ground. The wounded one had blue skin like Demus' dead son and was almost a true clone of the original.Both had black hair but the second looked relatively human, except in the eyes. The young child's eyes were the color of charcoal and his heart was equally as black.As his eyes passed over Talas the Grand Admiral visibly flinched as looked into the eyes of pure evil.The wounded son struck hard and fast sending a force push into his brother and smash him into the far wall. Picking up a shard of glass he leapt on his. " And she isn't dead?" said Flint, who made a brave attempt to display a more usual welcoming face. "This is good news indeed. She is welcome to stay for as long as she likes."This wasn't a generosity of spirit, however, that could last for long. Even on the first night that Demure stayed with them, he confessed to his wife as they lay together that he wasn't sure he trusted the black-skinned woman. She had a way about her which didn't engender trust. She wasn't open in her conversation. She was unusually careful with her words and her questions were too probing. Flint was also deeply uncomfortable with the degree of physical intimacy the two women expressed towards each other."That is the custom in the southern lands," explained Glade."It is a bad custom," said Flint. "I hope she doesn't stay in our cave for long. We must build her a shelter so she can sleep elsewhere."There were many ways that Demure had changed since Glade had last seen her. It wasn't just the years of living with.
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