Page 115 of The Cruel Dawn
Elyn and Zephar never got along. She resented that he thought of her as a “fucking librarian,” and he resented her for thinking of him as a “strutting big dick who thinks with a fire-ravaged brain.”
Now, Zephar pushes his hands through his hair and trudges over toward the tub. “Are you coming back?”
“Yes.”
“When do we leave for the Sea? It will be a long walk, since we can’t Spryte.”
“I know. We’ll leave tonight.”
He nods. “I’ll be ready for our departure, then.” His hardness softens, and he scrutinizes my face again. “I’m worried about what’s happening to you.”
I offer him a sad smile. “I’m worried about what’s happening to Vallendor.”
He finally plucks the worrisome patch of skin from my forehead.
I whisper, “Ouch,” and giggle.
He studies the fragment of skin, so tiny on his thick finger.
I leave him there, staring at that piece of me.
…
Shari follows Elyn and me past the pavilion, the eyes of many on our backs. She stops at the top of the path out of the Sanctum.
I kneel before the wolf and hold her face between my hands. “That fool up there upsets you.”
She whines.
“Why?”
She pants and growls.
“Can she talk to you?” Elyn asks.
I shake my head. “No—she belongs to Zephar.” I stroke her snout, wishing that she were mine. “I’ll be careful,” I tell her now. “I know there’s something wrong here. I feel it, too.”
Elyn and I trudge along the dusty path toward Malik Sindire’s settlement. Selenova hangs low in the sky, and her white light casts long shadows across the hills. Tension crackles between me and the Adjudicator. Her first visit to the Sanctum didn’t match the wondrous visit to the Misty Garden.
“We’re almost there,” I say now, alert as I scan the surrounding wilderness.
Elyn smiles tightly. “You sound like you’re trying to convince yourself that you know where you’re going.”
Before I can respond, a figure steps onto the path before us. The Eserime healer who’d beckoned me on my arrival days ago wears a warrior’s breastplate and an under-tunic embroidered with swirls of silver thread. She could be poor Nimith’s sister with that copper skin and those gray eyes. She notices my hand reaching for Fury, and she holds out her own hands to save her life. “I haven’t come to harm you.”
She smiles at Elyn and bows deeply. “Lady Fynal, it’s an honor.”
Elyn stiffens. “And who areyou?”
“Tatanye Lote.” Her face looks calm, but there’s a note of anxiety in her tone. “A healer now with Lord Itikin’s—pardon me,Lady Megidrail’s—battalion.”
Elyn’s brow furrows. “See, I don’t understand this. The warrior who despises stewards—”
“Can we not?” I shake my head at Elyn. To Tatanye Lote, I say, “Were you trying to get my attention days ago?”
The woman nods. Her eyes flicker momentarily, and she swallows. “Strange, isn’t it?”
I clench my jaw. “What’s strange?”
