Time seemed to slow with every fraction of a second that Illus gazed hypnotically into the abyss.
His voice shook for a syllable, “Carmonia never came back from this expedition, Ani. You remember that, right?”
Anilee’s chirpy voice pulled his attention from the gaping sinkhole beside the trail. Her dimples, freckled cheeks, and long raven-black hair were certainly a more comforting sight than the pitch-dark trench. “Carmonia also shipwrecked three times and experienced numerous mutinies. He was bold, not smart.” She rolled her coffee-colored eyes and slapped his arm lightly.
Illus brushed his silvery white hair back and turned his matching eyes to the trail. “Which is why I think it would be smart to exercise a little more caution here, possibly reconsider if the sinkholes worsen.”
She scowled from beneath her wide-brimmed gray sunhat, wrestling her matching puffy dress from a branch. “After all of this?!” She yelled out in frustration at the tatters in her dress doubling each day.
“Ani,” Illus put his hands out to calm her, “I know it’s frustrating, but we would both rather be alive and home than dead in ruins.” He leaned down to her, shrinking his lean and muscular frame in an effort to comfort her. “The sinkholes are proof enough that there are likely ancient structures or tunnels beneath the ground. We’re only here for basic reconnaissance, not an entire excavation. And the rainy season will be upon us, we-”
She pushed past him, her high-heeled boots clumsily stepping along the slope to avoid her dress catching on the thick foliage. “Are you even thinking? They’re probably just caves. We haven’t seen a single brick, foundation, pillar, or structure yet. These sinkholes don’t prove-”
Panic swarmed Anilee’s fair face as her foot slid down the slope. Illus lunged out and yanked her back up the hill, both of their hearts racing while they paused to catch their breath.
Illus smirked at her, taking the moment to rest from carrying both of their bags on his back. Having sweated through his unbuttoned tan collared shirt, he adjusted the brown trousers riding up on him. “How was that for proof? Maybe we should recon-”
“I’m fine!” She pushed off of him. “You’re only thinking about your own worries. You’re scared, I know, but I’ve been waiting for this my entire life! You’re making all these excuses without a care for me.”
Tears threatened to pour down her cheeks, so Illus conceded, if for no other reason than to avoid worsening the already stressful situation.
“Very well. But I do care Ani, it’s why I’m trying to keep you safe.”
“Then show me you care and keep me safe,” she stepped closer and clutched his hand. “I’m not stopping until I find Imahken.”
A high-pitched whistle swiped away their attention and a young woman playfully called back to them. “Do I hear love birds chirping back there?”
Illus’s sister Tyza poked her head out of a thicket ahead, leaves and branches caught in her silvery white mess of an overgrown pixie cut. She smirked, bouncing her eyebrows at them. The siblings shared similar features, though Tyza had brown eyes, was the shortest of the bunch, and her skin had darkened to a bronze tan over the course of the summer whereas Illus fought off a sunburn.
The moment Anilee caught Tyza’s downturned white eyes, she scowled. “Ugh, I’m not a bird or any other type of animal. You don’t need to be so demeaning.”
Tyza’s smile faded and her eyelids fell. “How could I be so inconsiderate, Anilee? You’re right. Animals are smart enough not to wear dresses in the woods.”
Anilee sneered and stepped behind Illus, who silently pleaded to Tyza for some reprieve.
Tyza whirled out her machete, hacked away the thicket she was in, and beckoned them to follow. Illus pulled the two mules and Anilee along, catching up to his sister and her husband Sator.
Sator ran a hand over his prickly red hair, sweat misting above him. He stood a tad taller than Illus but wily and slender in build. Solar orange bits of vine and goo fell from his cheek. A mischievous grin crawled up his cheek, his exhausted verdant green eyes locked on Illus. The right side of his face emoted less, a long scar running up his cheek and through his brow.
“You two are taking forever!” He panted, loosely twirling his machete with a limp arm. “Want me to cut those heels off, Anilee? Might help you keep up.”
Anilee shook her head, a complete turnaround from how she had been with Tyza. Polite and flattered, adding a little chuckle. “Thank you, but I couldn’t let these boots get so damaged on purpose.”
He snickered. “Oh, I can make anything look like an accident, just give me the word.”
“I’ll have to remember that.” She batted her eyelashes at him, very aware of Tyza’s glare.
Illus tugged the mules along and adjusted the strap of his bolt-action rifle. “If only we had all these sinkholes in Trithens. We wouldn’t have had to worry about them finding that bloke and leaving a trail.”
“Oh my stars,” Anilee groaned, “you’re so caught up on these sinkholes.”
“They’re everywhere, how could I not be?”
Sator interjected. “As long as we stick to the high ground, we should be fine. They’re all over the place, but pretty easy to spot out. I’ll just keep following the animal paths.”
Anilee tapped Illus’s arm and whispered to him. “At least Sator knows how to be a man.”
He didn’t respond, just tossed the bags down upon noticing Sator and Tyza taking a seat.
Sator caught something awry in Illus’s subtly frustrated expression. “How much farther?”
Illus welcomed the change of subject. “We should be right on top of it, or damn near.” He scanned the canopy and stuffed the map in his back pocket. “I’m going up.”
With monkey-like dexterity, he climbed the tallest tree in the vicinity, stopping to examine the surroundings as soon as he broke through the canopy. A vibrant green landscape sprawled out around him, the sun waning in the hazy, humid sky. Across the vast rolling hills, he spotted a distant clearing where a tall stone stood, like a weathered obelisk. Farther off towered a lone bald-peaked mountain, and he would have sworn he saw the shape of a person atop it.
By the time he had produced his spotter scope, nothing was there. Perhaps a trick of the eyes. No person could move that quickly.
He took the time to orient himself, shot azimuths, made a few compass measurements, and marked their journey on the map.
After a quarter of an hour in the tree, he climbed down and pointed slightly to the right of Sator. “Our next stop should be about a mile northeast atop a hill with a big stone. Seems like it may be an old structure.”
Anilee’s face brightened, energizing the entire group. “Only a mile more?! What are we waiting for?!” She pulled Illus to their bags and ushered him to bear the load once more, then put the ropes to the mules in his hands.
Sator hacked through the underbrush for that whole mile, swinging his arm around like a wet noodle. He sighed with relief and sheathed his machete when he finally broke into a clearing.
This region of Reckis was known for being mostly unsettled and unexplored. The trains did not reach out this far, which is why the four had to walk. Mountains, forest, and humidity marked the end of the summer season in this area.
They emerged into the perfectly circular clearing where a tall boulder sat perfectly in the center, atop the hill.
Anilee squinted at the stone, “Hmm?” Then her face lit up. “I think there’s writing on it!”
“Brilliant,” Illus trudged forward, eager to stop and take off the bags.
Sator halted them with a fervent whisper. “Stop, stop, stop. Look atop it.”
Tyza shared a glance with her husband, slowly pulling out her shortbow and urging him to do the same.
“Illus,” Anilee pointed, “look. Isn’t that fox beautiful? Is it the light or does it look blue to you too?”
Illus gazed up at the silhouette atop the boulder. A slender, blue fox with black undertones in its fur sat sniffing the wind, a slight etherealness to the way its fur waved so gently in the breeze.
“That’ll make for an expensive pelt.” Sator readied his crossbow, then a thwip and the bolt was soaring. It whistled through the air, set on a course for a direct hit. However, the whistle wasn’t coming from the arrow, it came from the fox, who raised a paw and caught the bolt between two claws. A flicker of blue flame reduced the entire arrow to ash in an instant.
Sator furrowed his brows, a dumbly confused expression creeping up his face. “Huh?”
Tyza flung an arrow from her shortbow, to which the fox imitated a “fwoo” sound while the arrow twirled through the air. As the arrow was about to impact, the fox tapped the point with its claw, knocking it upward. The arrow landed fletching-down on the fox’s nose. The fox flicked its head up and stuck out its tongue, balancing the arrow atop the tip of its tongue and standing upright on one foot.
“Stop!” Anilee clutched Tyza’s arm as she let free another arrow and Sator shot another bolt.
The bolt arrived first, knocked upward by the fox on top of the first arrow, then Tyza’s second arrow, swirling through the air, missed. The fox reached out with a foot to tap it to no avail.
Anilee hunkered down behind a tree at the sight of the fox making a show of their attacks. Suddenly the second arrow came whirling back around through the air toward Tyza. She fell backward and the arrow stuck in a tree behind her at head level. Then the fox tossed its balancing act up, kicking the bolt and arrow back toward the group. Sator hit the deck to avoid his bolt, but Tyza was already down. Illus caught a glimpse of flashing steel over his shoulder and stepped in the way, the arrow skimming his calf, setting it off course for his sister. He fell to a knee and clutched the slight wound.
A cackle echoed through the clearing from the smiling blue fox. Illus clenched his jaw, catching the fox’s devious glance before it disappeared behind the boulder.
Tyza jumped up, digging into her pack for the first aid kit. She cleaned and wrapped his wound while Sator carefully cleared the area.
She struggled to look into her brother’s eyes. “I’m sorry, Illus, I didn’t think… I don’t know. Foxes don’t do that.”
Anilee scowled at her. “Maybe this wouldn’t have happened if you had realized that during the blue fox’s blasted balancing act.”
Illus caught the mixture of shame and frustration on his sister’s face. “Still, a retaliatory attack with an arrow that missed is… not even a circus performer could do that. I don’t like to entertain superstition, but I am currently at a loss for any logical explanation.”
Anilee pursed her lips and grabbed Illus’s arm. “Well, hopefully some of your lost logic is transferable to the others.”
Tyza’s temper flared. “Spare me the spite, Anilee!”
Anilee sneered. “Then maybe think before you act before you get us all killed! I carry a pistol and I’ve never shot a thing because I have never wanted to. I’m no bloodthirsty bar-”
“Ani. Ani, enough, please.” Illus caressed her hand and sternly glanced between them. “You too, Ty. I would prefer if we dropped this and simply agreed to pause any action against the oddities in the forest.”
His eyes swept over the shifting trees, whose shadows danced darker than the rest of the forest along with a pervading silence.
Sator returned from his once-over. He tossed a long, straight branch next to Illus and stretched his arms. “Nothing here except for the rock. It’s got some writing on it, but I haven’t checked it out yet.”
“I knew it!” Anilee pulled her hat off and tugged Illus up the hill.
Through the thick swaying grass and up the hill, they saw the sky clearly for the first time in a few days. In the distance rolled heavy, dark overcast clouds, though not moving toward them. At the top of the hill the mountain towered above the treeline. An imposing climb, but a good sign.
Anilee scoured the stone, analyzing all four of its faces. “One face is a poem, one is marked up with scrawlings, one has nothing, and the other was a back rest for our skeletal friend there.” She pointed to a crumbled skeleton against the unmarked surface. “The poem is called ‘The Key to Ciun’ and look at that, in our language too:
‘A flooded valley in halves it dries,
Land atop ruins is where Ciun lies.
Ye guided by foxes promising shrine
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
Traverse shimmering lands labyrinthine.
Whose world long left unsaid,
History known only to the dead.
Hidden faces are shade ‘neath light
By masks that tell more than our sight.
Words, spoken are secrets in cipher,
Grief, known to none other than her.
To he who unmasks shall eternity claim
Reward all she offers to last the same.
He venturing these ought fear those
Who in life seek not to be chose.
Cherishes, these lands and all around,
The keeper takes note of every sound.
Love may guide thee further toward fates,
Of truly wise mind has nothing he hates.
Ciun of the old world you will meet soon,’”
Anilee pondered the poem as Illus read it from beside her. “Perhaps,” Illus started, “it is a cryptic guidestone of sorts? But the final couplet is incomplete, marked only by an empty line. What is Ciun, though?”
“Well,” Anilee raised her finger, “Imahken is what the ruins are called in texts written by historians who read about it in the myths of the coastal native peoples that our country assimilated. It’s very possible Ciun is this country or city’s name of antiquity, or possibly the name of the temple.”
Sator leaned down to look across Illus. “So nobody really knows what Imahken, or Ciun is?”
Illus half nodded. “The expedition return rate is low because people like Anilee and I who research this aren’t fur traders or survivalists like you, Sator. Carmonia’s lead on his target, an artifact, was a line from a myth that spoke of a place in this area. The mythical Imahken.” He quoted something from memory. “‘Imahken the bald where it was left long ago.’ ‘It’ being an unknown, sacred artifact of power.”
Tyza caught up. “What are the chances we even find the artifact here?”
“Who knows,” Illus pointed to different spots on his hand like a map. “The artifact was last rumored to be much farther south,” he set a finger on his palm, then dragged it up toward his first knuckle. “The nomadic native tribes only ventured to the edge of the distant mountains to our south, so little communication or correspondence would have made it even further north to unsettled areas where we are.” He dragged his finger from the first knuckle up to the end of his middle finger. “It would make little sense for it to be here, so our expedition is more or less a shot in the dark.”
Tyza’s face filled with worry. “And you’re sure this is Imahken, not Ciun?”
Illus shrugged. “We pinpointed this area through hearsay and centuries old books. The mountain being bald is reassuring, if nothing else. I’ve never seen any records of this particular mountain, which may be a good sign.”
“But,” Anilee added, “like Illus said, these ruins shouldn’t span much ground, being a temple, so it will be a short trip. What do you make of the poem, Illus?”
Illus shook his head. “We’re guessing it’s a temple, a storehouse for the artifact. But as for the poem, I’m at a bit of a loss. We’ll have to spend some time on it tonight. It speaks of a labyrinthine area, as well as some other foreboding things. We should discern what we can to avoid being blindsided.”
Tyza tossed her pack next to the stone and stretched. “Well, the military’s paying big for this expedition, so getting in and out with nothing huge is fine by me. That fox is sketchy, though.”
Sator was practically salivating. “But think about how much money they’ll pay if we do bring back something valuable like that fox’s pelt.”
Tyza greedily snickered with him while Illus pulled free and went to the other side of the stone with Anilee. They observed the scrawlings, words that seemed to bear no connection to one another. “Temple” was next to “stone” and “feather” was surrounded by “climb,” “cackle,” and “mirage.” Other odd combinations appeared, but Illus and Anilee could not decipher if they had any meaning, though the appearance of “temple” reassured them yet again.
They set up their tents on either side of the stone, then Sator set up a perimeter of aluminum cans on fishing strings around the clearing.
Sator and Tyza settled into their tent while Illus and Anilee began to review the poem by lantern light in theirs.
Sator pulled Tyza close in his arms from behind, curled up on the bed mat.
“Should have just shot the fox. Bet it can’t dodge a bullet.” Tyza laid back against him.
“Exit wound would’ve ripped apart the pelt. Foxes are just so small.”
“Makes you wonder if a bullet would do the trick. If the fox can play with live arrows, what else could it do?”
Sator smiled and walked his hand creepily up her arm. “Maybe it’s an evil spirit, a ghost that killed the guy by the rock that can only be hunted with shaman magic.” He skittered his hand closer to her face. “And it sneaks up in the middle of the night and aah!” His hand crawled up her cheek and tugged her into a kiss.
She giggled, hanging close as he pulled back. She bit her lip, rubbing her rear against him until a chill caught her spine and she sighed. “The tents are too close.”
Sator returned the sigh, gently combing his fingers through her short hair. “No doubt there. And, it’s your brother. Let’s not make him hear anything. Anilee’s not as bad as you made her out to be, though.”
“Ugh,” Tyza turned to Sator and stroked his bicep. “I’m not trying to be, what, the villain of their relationship, but Sat, you have to agree with me that she’s not good for him.” She put a finger on his lips before he could respond. “They get along and have similar interests, yada yada, but she is a slave driver. I would wager my life savings, my heart, my soul, my absent mother’s soul, and everything I’ve ever owned or loved that the second they got into their tent, she started ordering him around like a servant.”
Sator raised an eyebrow. “She’s certainly a bit unusual, she seems like she cares about him. You know?”
Tyza pursed her lips. “It’s hard to say. We have yet to see them be put in a really dangerous or scary situation as of now. And she’s so secretive that it’s concerning.”
Sator grinned mischievously. “Then what if we create a situation?”
“You better not be planning to hurt either of them.”
“No! No. Think more practically.” He sat up cross-legged. “We are in the forest, some ruins where there are bound to be frightful crevices and spooky slopes of mud. Illus will have no care for them, but Anilee…”
Tyza’s mouth curled into a devious smile. “She would be horrified, sent into a flight directly into his arms- or away from him. If we can separate ourselves and put some pieces in place, or lead them into controlled strife, we may be able to prove it.”
“She hates mud, pollen, plants, the dark… oh, just about everything out here. Here we can find if she cries for Illus, or if she takes all her frustration out on him.”
Her eyes beamed. “And if the do break up, we won’t be breaking them up. We will simply be putting them in places with a little tension.”
Sator pulled Tyza onto his lap. “Who knows? A little tension can do wondrous things for a relationship.”
She took a deep breath in and furrowed her brows. “You think she’ll warm up to all this, don’t you? You think they’ll stay together?”
“I do. I think that when she realizes how harmless nature is, she’ll be happier with him. I take it you think the opposite?”
She squinted at him. “There is no future where she gains an ounce of humility. And for the record, I don’t hate her. I think she’s great for him… in a wealthy block where everything is readily available and served to her on a silver platter.”
Sator quickly kissed her. “Shall we wager? If they stay together, I win. If they split, you win.”
“I like it, but what does the winner get?” She slipped a hand up his shirt, rubbing his chest. “Or what does the loser do? What if the winner chooses what we make of the profits from this adventure?”
He pulled her closer. “What if the loser has to do any one thing the winner asks.”
Tyza squinted at him. “‘No’ will never be enough for you, will it?”
“Just once, but only if I win.”
“Fine.”
“But,” Sator added, “we are not allowed to tell them what to do. We can only give advice if they ask for it.”
Tyza frowned at him and sighed in agreement. Sator held out his hand and she shook it, locking in the deal.
“Then, shall we scout ahead?”
Sator shivered, grabbing her waist and holding her still. “You don’t think they will get up or hear us?”
“I spent a few nights in Illus’s dorm when I was visiting the city, and I could not sleep at all because they spent literally all night talking about the first two chapters of a boring history book. Correction, she yapped while he listened obediently.” Tyza leaned closer, whispering in Sator’s ear. “We can take all night if we want to.”
Meanwhile in the other tent, Anilee was confirming Tyza’s earlier wager. Illus set up the tent, the bed mat, cleared it of bugs, muck, grime, dirt, and water as much as he could. But it still was not enough for Anilee to even take off her beaver skin shawl.
“Eugh,” she whined, “there are mud streaks on the edge of our mat. Where we sleep! This is disgusting.”
Illus rubbed his eyes tiredly.
“Unclip my hair, thank you.” She turned around and let him do it without even getting an answer. “And, did you write down the poem already?”
“Yes, Ani.”
“Good.”
Illus struck a match and lit a tarnished brass oil lantern between the two of them. He set the paper with the poem on the floor between them. They read, reread, and discussed the intricacies of the language for about an hour, tossing ideas back and forth, speculating and questioning about what everything could possibly mean.
“The Key to Ciun,” Illus reviewed. “The first couplet describes where we are. The second couplet may be a warning to not follow any foxes. They may lead us aimlessly into the woods. Third couplet, the ruins are ancient and lost- straightforward enough. Fourth couplet…”
Anilee picked up where Illus trailed off in thought, scrawling some notes down. “The faces and masks may be apparent when we get to the ruins, but it seems to suggest some form of deception. The fifth couplet, apart from the odd commas, may be another clue to something we have yet to see. The sixth couplet sounds like it is foreshadowing some kind of treasure within the ruins. Unless this is a madman in search of the fountain of youth and there is no artifact.”
“And the use of she… seems to refer to Imahken, or this shrine. Perhaps to differentiate between ‘he,’ us or others venturing to the ruins, and ‘she,’ the ruins of Imahken slash Ciun. And the way the writer explains it… I don’t know.”
Anilee chuckled. “I wouldn’t fret, this sounds like a crazy guy in the forest who lost his mind chasing foxes around ruins. It couldn’t be Carmonia, could it?”
Illus stroked her hair behind her ear and pulled a twig free. “Unlikely the remains would last there so long. However, meaning can yet be derived from the words of a madman, but you have to be a little mad yourself.”
He let his hand hang in the spot behind her ear for a moment, her coarse hair drifting through his fingers, hoping Ani may respond even with just a flick of her eyes. She stared straight at the paper on the mat as if he weren’t there.
“Anyway,” Illus pulled away and sighed his attention back to the paper, “where were we? Sixth, no, seventh couplet. Even more cryptic, but maybe it is a warning for people going in to have no expectations? Hard to say. Eighth. It speaks of a keeper, which is important to note. Whether that keeper is still around is another question, but respecting the land seems to be the safe course of action.”
Anilee’s eyes shot wide open and she sat up, beaming. “The fox?”
“With what we saw?” Illus had been waiting for her to come to that realization. “Very probable.”
“Okay,” she moved on, “um, ninth couplet- line. This makes little sense with the context we lack. ‘Ciun of the old world you will meet soon,” and then nothing. Is it alluding to something more beyond the ruins? But what of the missing line?”
Illus laid back and shook his head. “Hard to say indeed, but I think what we have gleaned is more than useful for the time being. More of the poem’s meaning will likely reveal itself to us as we traverse further. Do you think this is Imahken?”
“It has to be.”
Illus smiled and idly set his hand on hers, then gave it a reassuring squeeze.
Anilee expectantly eyed Illus, who stared at the roof of their tent idly contemplating that last thought, which drifted to thoughts of Anilee. Finally, she pulled her hand away and took off her beaver skin shawl in an attempt to feign comfort. Illus glanced at her, but she sourly turned her face forward. Then his smile faded, which frustrated her to no end.
She pouted at him. “You act so different with the others, but when it’s the two of us… nothing.”
He raised an eyebrow. “How do you mean?”
“Do I really have to spell it out every time?”
“I’m sorry,” he lied, unsure of what to be sorry for. “My head is still in the poem, this… riddle.”
“See?!” She shot up and grabbed his sweat and soil coated face with both of her hands, then recoiled and wiped them on her dress in embarrassment. “Why can’t I ever be in your head when you’re staring up with nothing else to do? Is your sister getting to you that much? Is she driving a wedge between us?”
He wanted to say “if only you knew how wrong you are.” What he said was “You’re in the forefront of my thoughts when I wake and you’re in my dreams when I lay down to rest. But…” he bit his tongue and rethought his next words carefully. “I haven’t discounted your disdain for dirt. And I think my sister is only fussy because of this exhausting trek. We’re bound to see our worse sides when going through a little hardship. Tempers are growing hotter and I think amiability is the best course here.”
Her face softened as did her tone, “I’m sorry. I’m not comfortable out here like animals and you all. I’m not a fur trader and I didn’t come from nothing like you. I can’t enjoy squalor like you.”
He faked a smile. “This is the only time you’ll ever have to be out in the forest, filthy with me. You’re doing great, so bear with it for now. Don’t think of the dirt and humidity, think of the ruins and how close we are to your dream.”
“It’s our dream.” She raised her chin to him, smiling. “I wouldn’t keep you around if you didn’t love this as much as me.”
Aluminum cans jangled outside. Anilee froze, curling up into herself.
Illus set a hand on her knee. “Ani, the animals will not harm us. There is nothing big and ferocious around here. I’ll be back in a moment.”
He opened the tent flaps and peered around, rifle at the ready. Nothing directly visible except for Sator and Tyza’s tent. Sator poked his head out, emerging with his own rifle. The two men locked eyes and then stood, scanning the perimeter. Behind Illus and Anilee’s tent were cans still gently shaking, but no sign of an animal. Illus grabbed the lantern and twisted a dial to focus the light toward the woods.
He thought it was a trick of the eyes, with the speed at which it disappeared. A blur of azure blue and a whisper of bone white. He froze, confusion swelling in him.
Was it a person? It was tall enough to be a person, but no person could move at such speeds. It was far too tall to be the fox, unless it was on its hind legs. But with such an odd blue fox, could there also be specters, ghosts, spirits? Or would allowing such superstitions to fester in his mind cause more strife than needed? Ancient ruins rumored to house a magical artifact could potentially result in strange residual magics, but ghosts? It had been proven time and again that ghosts did not wander the world, save for extremely rare instances of cursed artifacts. So perhaps it could be? Maybe a colorful bird tricking his eyes in the darkness? Illus settled on the fox being the cause despite the difference in size.
He shook off the thoughts of superstition and waved Sator back into his tent. “I think it was the fox, but it seems wary of us skittering off so quickly.”
Sator raised his hand to halt Illus, then left a finger up while he listened.
Nothing.
Silence.
No sounds came from a forest that should be bustling with life. No frogs croaking, no bugs chirping, not even a squirrel rustling in the underbrush. The two noticed this together and exchanged a glance. After a moment of internal deliberation, Sator shrugged and slipped back into his tent.
Illus laid down with the anxious and frightened Anilee, back to back, but his presence seemed to calm her enough that she did fall asleep.