plunged through the air clutching Pet’s hand. It was like falling inside the mouth of a monster, and the jagged rocks of the shaft were teeth. Her candle arced away below her. The puny flame flickered, needing only a breath more to snuff out.

The walls dimmed, and faded out. Time seemed to stop.

She’d heard that when you die, your life flashes before your eyes. But she only saw the wonderful moments with Dash . . .

The first time he held her hand, his fingers wrapping gently around hers, warm and confident. How her little heart trembled . . .

The first time he gave her a flower, they sat in a garden. A nearby fountain tinkled like wind chimes, and he reached behind her. With a smile, he brought back a rose, pale and pink.

“The first bloom of spring,” he said, stroking her cheek with it. “See how it blushes at your beauty?”

Afterward, she rushed to her room and put the flower in a vase. She wanted it to last forever. And it seemed to. Months passed before the last petal fell. She saved each precious one, pressing them in a book, and looked at them every night before going to bed . . .

Their first carriage ride. He, dressed in white silk, she in a honey-yellow frock. They drove to the top of a hill, spread out a blanket, and watched cotton-puff clouds go by. He pointed out horses and lions and elephants. She called out bunnies and kitties and cocker spaniels. But all she really saw was Dash, standing on the prow of a great ship, sailing across a foamy sea; Dash charging across the sky in a chariot, hair blowing in the wind; Dash scaling a tower to win her heart—which had been won long before he ever noticed her, when she gazed at him from afar, a shining star too high to hope for . . .

Who was she really? Only a servant girl. Hands and knees rough and callused from scrubbing floors.

“Here’s Bit,” said the other servant girls. “She don’t mind doing a little extra ironing. Do you, Bit?”

“Here’s Bit,” they said. “Your shift ain’t done ’til you’ve changed all the beds.” Her shift had been over hours ago.

“Now, Bit,” they said, “we’re going dancin’ tonight. You’ll cover our shift for us.” She always did.

“Bit, your balance is better than mine. The outside windows need washing.” She hated washing windows the most. Standing outside on a scaffold, it looked like a long way down. Some days, wind rocked the scaffold and the pail of water was ice cold.

There was silver to polish. If a single spot marred the surface, they made her do all the pieces again. She dusted and redusted the furniture. She cleared the cobwebs from the corners. She scrubbed clothes for hours on a washboard. Her hands turned red and dry. The skin cracked, and pulling away from the nails, bled. She rose every morning tired, and collapsed every night exhausted, asleep before her head hit the pillow.

She was too shy to complain. Even if she were bolder, she would have done the work. It gave her a chance to see Dash!

Once he saw her, he never treated her like a servant girl and never allowed her to work again. He stared into her eyes like they were rare jewels where all the mysteries of life were revealed. He left little chocolate treats by her door and love notes under her pillow. The calluses faded, and her skin became soft and silky. “See,” he told her. “You really are a princess. Only a princess has delicate hands like this.” And he would look deeply into her eyes again until her knees grew weak . . . There were walks in the woods gathering mushrooms, and hot summer days with strawberry-laced snowballs. There were rose-scented cards inscribed “I’m yours,” and evenings by the fire reading poetry. Every laugh, every look, passed through her mind. The black locks falling over his brow, the smile full of light, the eyes flashing in the sun.

Memory after memory fell like gentle rain, until she came to the last. Dash, slumbering peacefully in his chamber, the creature wrapped around his body, the coils tightening around his neck. No. Dash must not die. Not Dash. No. Never. No. No—

“No!!” Bit screamed.

A high-pitched singing reverberated off the walls of the shaft, getting closer, until it was in her ear. As if awakening from a dream, she realized Pet was screaming too.

Why can’t I see her? Bit thought. Everything was dark, but she had the sensation she was tumbling toward something darker. The odor of rotten eggs rushed past her nose.

Then she plunged into shocking cold and inky blackness. Her muscles felt heavy and numb. She was sinking.

Water, she thought. I’ve landed in water.

The backpack dragged her down like an anchor, so she slipped it off her shoulders. Letting it go, she swam for the surface. Five seconds, ten seconds passed, a crushing weight ripping her lungs. Her hands knifed through something thick and tangled and oozing. Then she was out and gulping air. Slime dripped into her eyes and mouth and she spat. A moment later she heard Pet sputtering beside her.

“Great,” Pet said. “Just great.”

“Are you all right?” Bit asked, wiping her eyes.

“Just peachy. What is this muck? It smells awful.”

“It feels like grass and leaves. The waterfall must push it back here, where it rots.”

“Great. Now what?”

Bit looked around. “This must be a cave behind the waterfall. There’s a dim light on your left. Maybe that’s the opening.”

She swam toward the light, Pet following. The cave made a turn and the walls became visible, rough and jagged like the shaft. She thought she heard the waterfall, muffled, like a deep drum roll. Another twenty feet and the water was shallow enough to wade in. The bottom gradually sloped upward.

“I lost my pack,” Pet said.

“Me too,” Bit replied.

The water was up to her knees now. A few more steps took her to dry rock, where she collapsed to catch her breath. Pet dropped beside her.

“We better find the doctor fast,” said Pet. “We lost the food and canteens when we lost the packs.”

“I have to find him,” said Bit. “Another day has gone by, and Dash is dying.”

“Then let’s get going. I’m cold.”

Rocks littered the floor of the cave. Water collected between the rocks.

“Careful,” said Pet. “There could be snakes in there.”

Bit scrambled and climbed over the rocks. Ahead she could hear the roar of the waterfall. Another turn of the cave and she saw the opening. It was a narrow slit between two boulders. Beyond was light-gray sky. She hurried forward and squeezed through. For a few seconds, the sunlight stung and blinded her. When she could see again, she looked around. She had come out among some boulders that ran along a cliff bottom. She stood on a shore. The waterfall thundered to her left, filling a pool. More boulders surrounded the pool like a horseshoe. She wondered how the water got in the cave. Perhaps grass and leaves were carried there when it flooded.

“I’m stuck,” Pet called.

Bit turned and saw Pet struggling. Her head, shoulder, and one arm were free. The rest of her was wedged in the opening.

Bit grasped Pet’s hand and pulled.

“You’re hurting me,” Pet screamed.

“Try and push with your feet.” Bit tugged again.

“No! Stop! You’re making it worse.”

“Try going backward.”

Bit pushed while Pet tried pulling back.

“It’s no good,” Pet cried. “I’m trapped.” Her eyes widened in panic. “Don’t leave me. Please don’t leave me.”

“Don’t be silly. I wouldn’t leave you. Try to calm down.” Bit stepped back and looked at the opening. It was formed by two boulders leaning against each other, and looked like a very tall and narrow upside down V.

“Don’t just stand there, do something,” Pet cried.

“Hush. You got in there. We’ll get you out.” Bit studied the opening.

“Well?” asked Pet.

“The opening is a little larger toward the bottom. Try going down and back.”

Pet rocked her shoulders back and forth, trying to pull down.

“Bend your knees,” said Bit.

Working down and back, Pet freed herself.

“Now come through, but lower down.”

“I’m not taking any chances.” Pet got down on her side and wriggled through like a snake, tearing the sleeve of her shirt on a sharp rock. She rose, and Bit hugged her.

“You’re bleeding,” said Bit, looking at a long scratch on Pet’s elbow.

“I’ll live. Stop fussing over me. I’m not a baby.”

Bit stood back and looked at her friend. She giggled.

“What?” Pet asked.

“You’re a sight.”

Pet’s hair was matted and tangled with globs of green muck. More slime dangled like confetti from her shirt and shorts, which were ripped, tattered, and streaked with grime. Her boots were scuffed and swollen with water, and a heel had come off. It looked like she hadn’t changed clothes in years. Her face was smeared with mud. Scrapes, cuts, and nicks crisscrossed her arms and legs.

“If you tell anyone—” Pet swore.

“Don’t worry, I’m not much better.”

Swamp slime hung in ribbons from Bit’s hair and clothes. Her pants, filthy and torn at the knee, looked like they came from a poor box. Her hands were raw and blistered. A year of heavy work could not have made them more red and swollen.

“You look like a waif,” said Pet.

“You look like a street urchin.” Bit laughed.

“You’re a beggar.”

“You’re a tramp.”

Bit pretended she wore a dress and curtsied. “Good evening, Countess.”

Pet laughed and curtsied back. “Good evening, Your Highness. I love your gown. Is that the latest style?”

“Yes. Everyone in court is wearing one.”

“And what is that rare perfume?”

“I call it Eau de Swampgas.”

They laughed, until at last, Pet grew serious again. “Thanks for helping back there.”

“You would have done the same,” Bit replied.

Pet looked away and played with her torn sleeve. “Not just when I was stuck. When I fell.”

“We stick together like glue—whatever may come, ’til the end. Remember?” Bit said with a smile. “Come on. Let’s clean off in the pool.”

They took off their shoes and dashed into the water. It was icy, forcing them to scrub quickly. Afterward, they rested on the rocks beside the shore, letting their clothes dry on their bodies. The day was warm, but the afternoon sun had not broken through the gray clouds. Bit was relieved she didn’t have to take off her socks.

“Where do we go now?” Pet asked, when they were ready to leave.

“There should be a trail on the far end of the pool.”

Bit led them around the horseshoe of boulders. Opposite the waterfall, a fast-moving stream poured from the pool and disappeared into a forest. But there was no trail.

“That’s odd,” Bit said. “The Pondit said there was a trail.”

“What do we do now?”

Bit looked around. The hills surrounding the pool were carpeted with thick-growing trees. It would be easy to get lost in there, and Pet’s compass was gone with her pack.

“Let’s follow the stream,” Bit replied.

The banks of the stream were steep, leaving no place to walk on either side, so Bit led the way along the water’s edge, where she scrambled over a jumble of rocks or waded knee deep in the cold current. After an hour she stopped and checked her direction by the sun. The stream had turned and she was going the wrong way.

Since they lost the canteens, she was reluctant to leave the water, but there was no choice. Before leaving the stream she made Pet take a long drink, and drank deeply herself. Afterward, she led the way through a grove of giant redwoods. These gave way to fir, then a stand of old oak. The forest was still. The only sound was the crackle of leaves underfoot. Occasionally she thought she saw Darter flitting from branch to branch.

Gnarled roots cut across the path, and patches of low-lying brush grew around the trees, slowing her progress. She found herself turning, circling, doubling back. She worried about getting lost if the sun set before they left the forest. Hunger gnawed at her stomach and her throat was dry. But she wasn’t concerned about herself. Before coming to the Rose Castle, she had gone without food. She knew she could survive. She was worried about Pet. Pet’s life was pampered. She had never faced hardship. She’d always sat on soft silk cushions. Every meal had been served on porcelain china and eaten with a silver fork. Starvation would be a shock to her.

Maybe that was what she was thinking about now. She’d been lost in thought for several miles now, tugging at a loose thread on her shorts.

That was okay. Bit needed time to think. The tender memories of Dash cascaded through her mind and made her ache. She had to survive for Dash. Four, maybe five days. That’s all she had before the creature took him from the world. The thought was unbearable. She had to find the doctor. Then, somehow, she had to find a way back to Aerdem. This worried her the most. Without Yalp’s magic, she didn’t have a clue how to get home.

Snapping branches broke the silence. Two streaks of brown rushed out of the brush and into a little clearing. The first was a little rabbit, bolting across the ground. A coyote chased behind, gaining with lightning-fast leaps. The coyote was old and scrawny, her yellow teeth bared in a nasty grin. She sprang, jaws locking on the rabbit’s neck, then dragged it back into the brush. The rabbit was still alive. Bit could see its eyes, wide, frightened and helpless.

Tears sprang to Bit’s eyes. She could only stare at Pet, who looked back in horror.

They continued on. If Pet was quiet before, she was completely withdrawn now. Trees hemmed them in at every turn. Branches grew to the ground like prison bars. The sun was setting. It would be dark soon. There was no choice but to plow through some thick bushes.

“Stop!” Pet called. She grabbed Bit’s hand and yanked back.

Bit lost her balance. Together they tumbled into the brush.

“Great. Just great.” Pet rose first. “Bit, haven’t you seen poison oak before?”

Bit gasped. “Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure. It grows all around our back yard.”

“Maybe you won’t get it. You fell on top of me.”

“What about you? You fell in the worst of it.”

“I don’t care what happens to me. As long as I find the doctor.”

Bit led the way down a hill. The trees continued to grow in dense patches, but a few minutes later she found a dirt road going in the right direction. She followed the road, suddenly feeling hopeful. Roads lead somewhere, and this one went away from the wilderness and the mountain behind. The cottage where Jenny had lived was supposed to be the last home on the shoulders of a mountain. Two miles farther was Doc Jenkins’ house. Three beyond that was a village. Even if Bit overshot her exit from the forest, she could ask for directions.

“What’s that?” Pet asked, pointing down a tree-lined hill that fell away to the left.

Through the trees, Bit thought she saw a building.

“Let’s go see,” said Bit, a growing thrill fluttering in the pit of her stomach. If someone lived there, they could get help.

She led the way down the hill. At the bottom was a cottage. The windows were dark and dirty, and one of them was broken. Piles of leaves littered the porch. Weeds overran the remnants of a garden. A neat pile of wood was stacked next to a well, an ax still lodged in the chopping block.

“I wonder if this was Jenny’s cottage,” she said, her heart pounding with excitement.

“Maybe,” Pet replied. “I’m thirsty. Let’s see if there’s any water in the well.”

Bit followed Pet to the well, which was made in a circle of stones. The crank was rusty, but a rope still held the bucket. Together they pulled up the bucket. It was dusty, and dry as a cork.

“Come on,” said Pet. “The cottage looks deserted. Maybe there’s food and water inside.”

Bit followed. She no longer felt hungry. She wanted to see the inside of the cottage and see whether it had been Jenny’s. Jenny had lived alone with Nell, an old woman who had died.

She knocked on the front door. There was no answer so she pushed it open. The hinges whined, protesting from rust. She brushed away a sticky spider web that clung to her face as she passed through the entrance. The smell of dust and mothballs filled the air. She lit a lantern that hung from the ceiling. To the left was a cozy living room. A small wooden stool and a big, overstuffed chair faced a stone fireplace. A beige shawl hung over the back of the chair. Along the fireplace mantle were little clay animals, such as a child would make.

She picked up a thick book that sat on a side table next to a pair of spectacles. She blew away the dust. The title read: The Age of Reason. She thumbed through several pages. There were a lot of words she didn’t know.

Opposite the living room was a dining room, with a round table and three oak chairs. The table was covered with a faded yellow cloth. A vase in the middle held a single dead flower.

Through an entryway beyond was the kitchen. There was barely room for a counter, the sink, and a wood-burning stove. Shelves and cupboards lined the walls to the ceiling. A pot had been left soaking in the sink. Pet found jars of pickled eggs, an unopened package of crackers, canned tomatoes and peas, and a tin of candied apricots.

“We could look for wood and heat up the vegetables,” Bit suggested.

“I’m too hungry. Come on, I’ll fix you a plate.”

They ate quickly, then explored the back rooms. The one on the left had a narrow bed. Bit lifted the covers. Underneath she found a thick layer of straw piled on top of wooden slats. There were pink curtains on the windows and a child’s desk in the corner. Her heart skipped a beat. Was this Jenny’s room? If so, they were close to the doctor. They could find him tonight!

Pet rummaged through a closet, while Bit explored the next room. She found another narrow bed covered with a thick quilt. On a night table were a lantern and a hairbrush. She quickly lit the lantern and looked at the hair caught in the bristles of the brush. She stopped breathing. Gray hair. An old woman!

The nightstand had three drawers. The first was empty. In the second she found a piece of paper, folded in half. A big smiling sun had been drawn, and letters crudely formed by a child’s hand. She read the words in a whisper, hardly able to believe her eyes, which filled with tears of joy: “Happy Birthday Nell! Love, Jenny.”

“Pet!” she cried, her heart trembling. “We can find the doctor. This was Jenny’s cottage!”

Pet ran in from the other room. “Are you sure?”

Bit showed her the card. “If we leave now, we can get there before dark. He’s only two miles down the road.”

“I’m tired. Let’s sleep here tonight and find the doctor in the morning.”

“Please, Pet. Every moment that goes by may be Dash’s last.”

“Okay. Let me just gather some food, in case we get lost.”

“Please hurry.”

Pet threw some jars, cans, and an opener in a burlap sack. “Calm down. We’ll find the doctor soon enough.”

Nothing could be too soon for Bit as she urged her friend out of the cottage. The clouds had finally broken and the setting sun had emerged, pink with hope. The color reminded Bit of the Rose Castle. It was like an omen from heaven, she thought, and soon she would be home with Dash beside her.

As she skipped off the porch and down the road, wrapped in dreams of happiness and peace, a bloodcurdling sound sliced through the evening air.

“What’s that?” Pet exclaimed.

“It sounds like a pack—”

“Of dogs. They don’t sound friendly.”

“They’re coming this way,” cried Bit.

“Let’s hide.”

They dashed back up the hill and hid just beyond a small clearing of trees. The barking grew loud, sharp and hungry. Bit pulled Pet deeper into the brush. A few minutes later, a boy burst through the trees. He ran across the clearing, face red, heaving with every breath. His shirt was too big for him, his pants too tight. They were nothing more than rags, so frayed and worn and covered with grime that it was impossible to tell the original color. Terrified, he glanced over his shoulder, and hid among some bushes across the clearing from Bit.

The pack sounded like a single, vicious beast, yapping and snarling as it drew closer. The barking stopped abruptly at the bottom of the hill. Bit thought she heard whining. Then a sharp cry of triumph and the yelping pack charged up the hill. A dozen or more bloodhounds crashed through the trees and streamed into the clearing, eyes red, mouths drooling. They raced across the path the boy had followed, clambering over each other in their excitement. Growling, they stopped directly in front of the brush where he lay hiding. Several of them circled the spot, cutting off any escape.

A new sound turned Bit’s attention back down the hill. Someone was singing, the voice harsh and shrill as a vulture:

Oh, my little babies,

What have you caught today?

Oh, my little darlings,

Serve it on a tray.

A woman emerged from the trees as she finished the song. She was tall and thin. Her body was bony, all sharp angles and protruding joints. Her gray hair was wrapped in a severe bun, held in place by several knitting needles. Her nose was like a bird of prey, her chin a knife. Her eyes were nothing more than black slashes.

“Ox!” she called. Where are you, you lazy lub?”

Bit heard the heavy scrape and crunch of leaves moving up the hill. A burly man appeared. His hair was coarse stubble, his face square and sweating. He stood panting, looking stupidly at the woman.

“Well? What are you waiting for?” said the woman. She gave his bottom a hard kick. “Go get him.”

Ox grinned viciously as he approached the bush where the dogs were barking. Reaching in, he pulled the boy out by the collar and held him in the air like a rag doll. The boy hung limp, a look of resignation on his face.

“Now, Jeffrey,” said Ox. “We’re gunna have a nice time when we get home, ain’t we?” He gave the boy a little shake. “Ain’t we?”

Jeffrey hung his head.

“What’sa matter? Cat got your tongue?”

He carried the boy to the woman, who stood with her hands on her hips. She lifted the boy’s chin with a claw-like hand.

“You know the rules,” she said to him. “Running away is the highest crime, and shall be met with the highest penalty.”

Jeffrey came alive and looked pleadingly at her. “Please, Miss Drath. Don’t beat me. I won’t do it again. I swear.”

Drath’s mouth was an upside down U set in a perpetual frown. Now it pulled lower. “I dare say you won’t, after Ox is through with you,” she replied.

Ox licked his fat lips and smiled wickedly. Jeffrey sagged again. Ox put him down and tied his hands behind his back with a thick rope. Another rope was tied around his neck like a leash. Ox gave it a sharp pull and the boy stumbled.

“Come along, Babies,” Miss Drath called, gathering the bloodhounds.

They yipped and jumped around her, but one turned and looked toward the brush where Bit lay hiding. She backed deeper among the leaves, tugging Pet with her. The dog took a step toward the bush and sniffed. His red eyes narrowed. Baring his teeth, he growled.

“What is it, Nose?” Miss Drath called to the dog. “Have you found another treat for Mommy?” She clapped her hands. “Hunt!”

Yipping and barking, the dogs raced to the brush where Bit was hidden. She looked wildly about for an escape route. Her heart swelled into her mouth. She tried to rise, tried to run, but her feet felt like lead. A moment later, Ox peered through the leaves and his eyes locked on hers. With a triumphant smile, he seized her arm and dragged her roughly into the clearing.

“Well done, Ox!” said Miss Drath.

Bit stood beside Pet in the middle of the clearing. The dogs had formed a ring around her. Ox was an arm’s length away. He leered at her, making three thick bristles twitch on his nose.

Miss Drath stroked her long chin and circled around Bit, looking her up and down. Bit knew she was a sight. Most of the mud had washed off at the pool, but her clothes were ragged and torn. Pet looked worse.

“Where are you from?” asked Drath. “I haven’t seen you before.”

Petunia took a bold step forward and drew herself up to her full height. “I am Countess Petunia Pompahro, and this is Lady Bit, betrothed to Prince Dashren. Bring us Doctor Jenkins at once and we will see that you are richly rewarded.”

Drath looked amused. “A countess. And a lady,” she said in mock surprise. She examined the contents of the sack Pet had filled with supplies from the cottage. “Let’s see what you would reward me with. Ah, a can of green beans, a couple of onions, potatoes. Ox! Have you ever seen such riches?”

Ox laughed viciously. Jeffrey had been tied to a tree limb. Ox gave him kick.

“And these are your noble clothes?” continued Drath. As she spoke she leaned her face close to Pet’s, tugging with a bony hand at a hole in the Countess’ shirt.

“Get away from me you disgusting creature. Your breath stinks,” cried Pet.

For a moment, Miss Drath looked startled and put her hand over her mouth.

Bit tried to give Pet a warning look, but her friend was in rare form. She stood with her hands on her hips, her face red and shaking. “Bring the doctor to us at once or the Count will take you severely in hand.”

“The Count!” cried Drath with a laugh. “I should like to see your Count. Is he as elegant as you?”

Pet glared.

Drath shook the sack. “Where did you get this?” she said sharply.

“We got them from Jenny’s old cottage—”

“Jenny?” said Drath. “What do you know about Jenny?”

“She’s a princess,” Pet said importantly, “and she’ll bring the whole Royal Army of Aerdem down on you if you don’t do what I say.”

“Pet,” whispered Bit. “Don’t.”

“Oh. The little mousy one talks,” said Drath, turning to Bit. “Speak up. What do you know about Jenny?”

Bit felt trapped. If she said Jenny was a princess, she knew she would sound as absurd as Pet. If she said they needed the doctor for Dash, or he would die, Drath would demand they produce him. Still, that part of the truth seemed her only option.

“If you please, Miss,” she began, “we have a friend—”

“Jenny,” shrieked Drath, “where is Jenny?”

“I . . . I don’t know,” Bit replied.

“Don’t lie to me, girl!”

“Miss?”

“I’ve been wanting to get my hands on her a long time. I’ve suspected she’s been living in a cave up here. Now I see she’s gathering runaways and vagabonds to live with her—then sends them out to steal.”

“No, Miss. We were only—”

“You’ve admitted you stole this food from Nell’s cottage.”

“The cottage was abandoned, Miss. We didn’t think anyone would mind.”

Drath grabbed Bit by the hair and shook her. “Tell me where Jenny is or I’ll beat it out of you.”

Bit cried out. Her scalp burned, like every hair was being torn out. Through a blur of tears she saw Pet raising her fists.

“Leave her alone,” Pet yelled.

Drath lunged for Pet. “I’ll start by beating it out of you.”

“Don’t you dare touch me, you dreadful hag,” Pet cried, “or the Count will take the skin off your back.”

To Bit’s surprise, Drath dropped her hands.

“You’ll regret those words,” she said coldly. “Ox! Tie them up.”

Ox gave Bit a nasty grin, exposing a set of yellow, horsy teeth. He pulled a length of rope from around his waist and reached for her. Something streaked from the trees. It was Darter! He beat Ox’s head with his wings and body. Ox swung wildly, trying to bat the bird away. But Darter dodged Ox’s hands and attacked his face. Jabbing with his beak, Darter cut open Ox’s cheek and forehead. Blood streamed into the man’s eyes and mouth.

Bit had no time to run. Drath grabbed a stout stick and nailed Darter with a single swing. He sailed ten feet away and fell lifeless on the ground. The battle was over in seconds. Bit’s hands were tied behind her back, the knot cutting painfully into her wrists. Another long rope looped snugly around her neck and was tied to Pet and Jeffrey.

The rest of the night was a blur. Dark, lowering clouds. Miles of marching. The leash pulling at her neck. Drath’s skeletal silhouette leading them down a muddy dirt road.

One moment was clear. She saw a long driveway branch off the side of the road with a wooden sign at the entrance. Painted in blue letters were the words “Doctor Jenkins.” At that moment, the last light of the day expired.