He didn't have a chance. He knew that when he couldn't budge her hands and he fell into the airless blackness of space.
Alone and naked, Cassal awakened. He wished he hadn't. He turned over and, though he tried hard not to, promptly woke up again. His body was willing to sleep, but his mind was panicked and disturbed. About what, he wasn't sure.
He sat up shakily and held his roaring head in his hands. He ran aching fingers through his hair. He stopped. The lump behind his ear was gone.
"Dimanche!" he called, and looked at his abdomen.
There was a thin scar, healing visibly before his eyes.
"Dimanche!" he cried again. "Dimanche!"
There was no answer. Dimanche was no longer with him.
He staggered to his feet and stared at the wall. She'd been kind enough to return him to his own rooms. At length he gathered enough strength to rummage through his belongings. Nothing was missing. Money, identification—all were there.
He could go to the police. He grimaced as he thought of it. The neighborly Godolphian police were hardly a match for the Huntner; she'd fake them out of their skins.