sparrow perched on the saddle. Falkan Ennar.
Not a companion, Yrene realized, but an
additional guard.
Elide asked, “What’s wrong?”
Borte shifted, with impatience or nerves,
Yrene couldn’t tell. “They found someone in
the mountain. They want you up there—to
decide what to do with him.”
Elide had gone still. Utterly still.
Yrene asked, “Who?”
Borte’s mouth tightened. “Her uncle.”
Elide wondered if the rukhin would shun her
forever if she vomited all over Arcas. Indeed,
during the swift, steep flight up to the bridge
spanning the Omega and Northern Fang, it
was all she could do not to hurl the contents of
her stomach all over the bird’s feathers.
“They found him hiding in the Northern
Fang,” Borte had said before she’d hauled