‘T’amber says you must seek help. She says you know who.’ T’amber, the woman with those damned eyes. Like a lioness. What is it, damn it, about those eyes? ‘Who is she, Adjunct?’ A flicker of something like sympathy in the woman’s gaze. ‘Someone…a lot more than she once was, soldier.’ ‘And you trust her?’ ‘Trust.’ She smiled slightly. ‘You must know, as young as you are, Bottle, that truth is found in the touch. Always.’
