The single name she screamed out became audible. ‘Amanda, Amanda, run baby—oh God please make her run!’ She screamed in hopeless desperation. It...was at that instant that the horrible event which would occur in seconds became terrifyingly personal. The woman came into focus and he put her plaintive cries together with his visual recognition. He recognized the woman—it was his sweet wife, Jenna. The young girl who was about to have her precious life torn from her—from them—was his Amanda, his. He had none of the things he needed with him, except for his flagon of breakfast. “Ah, good to see you, Tortres Lynx.” The Ducere said excitedly. “Please, come in.” Lynx stepped into the hut and waited. He was then motioned to come and sit down on the hearth. He complied. “So, I take it you’re here about the journal, yeah?” Said Ducere Arg. “I am.” Replied Lynx. “I got your note.” “So it would seem.” Ducere Arg emoted. “What is it and what is in it?” Lynx asked, very interested. “That is the. More

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