Otherworld Protector. Jane Godman

both walls. Reaching up into a natural shelf in the rock, he took down a flashlight. Beyond it, the cave narrowed and Cal led Stella into the gloom, shining the light ahead of him.

      “Just keep one hand on the wall and watch your step. The floor is uneven in places.”

      They walked for a minute before the corridor opened out into a large circular space. The beam of the flashlight illuminated the scene. There was an old sofa and two chairs, a bookshelf and a table. Stella took in these details, blinking at Cal in surprise. “Someone lives here?”

      “We do. For the time being.” Cal handed her the light and went over to the bookshelf. Taking down two old-fashioned oil lamps, he set about lighting them. Soon there was a warm, strangely homely glow about the place.

      “No, seriously.” He glanced up from his task, holding her gaze. “You are being serious.”

      “I told you I was bringing you to the only place I knew I could keep you safe. This is it.”

      Stella flopped down onto one of the chairs. “After the hours of traveling, revelations and confrontation, in spite of the fact we’re in a cave, this actually feels incredibly comfortable. Where will we sleep?”

      Cal pointed to an arch in the cave wall. “The bedroom is through there. I’ll take the sofa.”

      “And this may be a bit of a girlie thing but...”

      “There is no bathroom.” He started to laugh at her expression. “There is a stream just outside. It flows down into a deep pool. As long as you don’t mind the cold, it’s perfect for bathing. This cave has been inhabited on and off for centuries, so there is even a well for drinking water.”

      “I was actually thinking of something more basic than bathing.” Even in the flickering golden lamplight, he could see that she was blushing.

      “It is a bit primitive, I’m afraid. Think Victorians and chamber pots.”

      Stella lowered her head into her hands and, as he observed her shaking shoulders, Cal had a horrible feeling that she might have started to cry. When she looked up, her face was a picture of laughter.

      “In the space of twenty-four hours we’ve become desperate fugitives from justice.”

      He studied her in concern. “Can you get used to it? This is the one place I guarantee Moncoya won’t come.” Just don’t ask me how I know that.

      “I can get used to anything if I can get my head down right now and go to sleep.”

      “Come with me.” He held out his hand and pulled her up from the chair. Carrying one of the lamps, he led her through to where a bed fitted neatly into what turned out to be a small alcove in the cave wall. Cal dragged a large trunk out from under it and took clean pillows and bedding out of that.