Betrayal incites a fury in young Sybil Taylor, and though she begins this tale as captive, her enemies have more than enough reason to fear her. From the old steam engine train chugging into Marrakesh to the desperate mountain trek en route to the city of Ouarzazate, she is driven by a combination of fury and fear.
Silently, straining her ears to hear activity, she wrapped a scarf around her face and tucked it under her collar. The plain blue shawl she wound with care over her shoulders and up over her head, praying they hadn't searched the bags and found her clothes.
An enraged yell, all too close, shot a slice of terror into her. She smiled to herself. Ableman discovered her escape. She heard pounding feet, sharp voices, the distant clatter of doors as they rushed off the train. They would find that cloak — would it fool them? The guard was no fool. She waited in silence, head bowed, in the furthest corner of the bunk.
It seemed like hours. Outside the train hissed in preparation. Voices drifted to her, distant, musical voices, conversation, the sounds of travelers. People boarded the train, others called final good wishes.
Sybil opened the drape, easing soundlessly down to the compartment floor. It felt like waking from nightmares again. She had no idea of how much time had passed while she hid. She tiptoed to the main passageway. A distant voice shouted…