Chaol shook his head and gestured to the
field, to the black mare and her rider. “I call
Farasha Hellas’s horse. I’ve done so from the
moment I met her.”
As if meeting that horse, bringing her here,
was not as much for him as it was for this. For
this desperate race across an endless
battlefield.
Yrene clasped his hand, like she
understood, too.
Silence fell along their section of the
battlement. There were no words left to say.
“Lorcan!”
Elide’s voice broke on the cry. She’d lost
count of how many times she’d shouted it
now.
No sign of him.
She aimed for the lake. Closer to the dam.
He would have chosen the lake for its