Backing away from the woman, Amuné’s shoulders encountered the cold stone of the far wall.  The child didn’t trust the newcomer.  She claimed they were alike, but only bad people were sent to the Stone.  If someone wasn’t evil, then how would they end up here?  She pulled the stuffed kitten from her belt, wanting the reassuring pressure of its soft face against her own.  Her eyes widened as the woman removed one glove to show an arm apparently made of stone.

“How--”  The question was quickly cut off, and the child pressed her lips shut.  No, she shouldn’t be talking to this woman.  Shouldn’t let her get near.  The only explanation for an arm like that with glowing patterns on it was magic and magic was bad.  Using magic was wrong, everyone knew that.  It was  why Amuné’d had to try so hard to keep from Seeing things, not that she’d been entirely successful.  That was why she’d ended up where she was now, because of her visions and...

A shudder ran through her.  No, she didn’t want to think about that.  The strange woman speaking again was a welcome distraction, even if the girl would’ve rather not  encountered her.  Grace was a normal enough name.  But the only reply given  in return was a stiff shake of the child’s head.