The German pursed his lips.
“That one is no good,” he informed her. “Tell your friend here to collect her belongings. Anything she leaves inside, she will forfeit.”
Dafni heaved a great breath and got slowly to her feet.
“Neín,” she said firmly, though her lips quivered. With a sigh, the German cocked his pistol and pushed it against Dafni’s head.
“Stop!” Katerina screamed. “She doesn’t mean it, she doesn’tunderstand. Dafni,” she begged, “do as they say. You can come to live with me. Please!”
The German officer growled a warning, which the soldier translated.
“He is going to count to three,” he said, and there was a pleading edge to his tone that hadn’t been there before. Katerina tried to reach Dafni, but it was as if the older woman was set in stone.
“Eíns, zweí…”
“No!” Katerina grabbed General Wolff’s arm in desperation. He wheeled around and almost fell, righting himself on one of the men who hurried forward. Katerina found herself pinned against the wall of Dafni’s house, the German’s gloved hand around her throat. Spittle landed on her cheeks as he roared at her. She could not understand the words, though she knew what he meant to do.
Her mind went helplessly to Stefanos. If this were to be her final moment, she wanted to spend it thinking of him. She closed her eyes, allowed her body to go limp. Her arms dropped to her sides, the flame inside her doused by terror.
Dafni began to scream.
Katerina made herself look. The older woman was being restrained by the soldiers, shouting that she would do as they asked, that she was sorry, that if they must shoot someone, let it be her, not this innocent girl.
The pressure around Katerina’s throat was increasing. Her vision clouded with dark shapes, and she gasped, trying in vain to breathe past the man’s clawing fingers.
The end must surely be soon.
Then, suddenly, there was air. Clean and sweet and rushing into her lungs.
The general fell to his knees. Behind him stood Chrysí, her head down and her front hooves firmly planted. Coughing and spluttering through her tears, Katerina crawled away from hercaptor. The German was back on his feet within seconds, the faces of the other soldiers a mix of veiled shock and amusement. Katerina stumbled, rolling onto her back only to launch herself up with a raw, splintering cry.
Too late.
Another crack rang out across the hillside. Birds took flight in a flurry of wings.
The body of the little goat landed with barely a sound, her life draining out into the dirt.
Forty-one
It began with a low growl beneath the floor.
Within seconds, the roar was deafening.
A sudden, sharp lurch rippled through the house. Skye’s legs buckled, slamming her against the oven. She hit the tiles hard. Across the room, her mother’s eyes locked with hers, wide with terror.
The walls groaned. The picture Joy had given her fell with a crash, splinters of glass shooting in all directions. Tea splashed, crockery burst, shards skittered like bullets.
Skye grabbed her mother’s arm and dragged her beneath the table, their knees knocking as they crouched together in the small space.
Her heart pounded against her ribs.
There was no sign of Martyn.
The ground shifted again, and the windows rattled violently in their frames.
A loud crack split the air like a gunshot. Skye whimpered and pressed her palms to the floor. She tried to count, to focus, but thenumbers slid away. A chair toppled, a vase shattered, and metal clattered as the knives and forks jumped in their pot.
Then came a low, guttural moan, unmistakably male, followed by a crash from upstairs so thunderous that it shook the walls.
