She heard his voice screaming her name into the twilight as she fled, his cries trailing like banners, weaving through the breeze that had begun to gently stir the dew on the ground. " "With all his cunning, he may meet with his match," continued Kneebone, laughing. ‘Then mayhap this will persuade you!’ With a scrape of steel, he drew his sword from its scabbard. ” She went as far as her door, then turned to the window. She exhaled, feeling the tension drain from her shoulders and arms. He wished he had the time to solve this riddle, for it was a riddle, and four-square besides.
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