When they had decided Kyosti wouldn’t tell them anything even under torture, they tossed him back in his cell at the bottom of the House of Wizards. Kyosti lay still, trying not to aggravate his injuries, as he listened to Kayla curse and rage at him all the way out of the dungeon.
By the time Sanji returned, Kyosti, Anglorae, and John had taken refuge inside a kind farmer’s wagon. They listened to his griping about the sleet ruining his crop until Anglorae, who was peering through the slits in the wagon, called out Sanji’s name. She shook Kyosti’s arm. “She’s back!”
“Who’s with her?” Kyosti asked, his heart squeezing.
“No one,” Anglorae answered, sounding less certain. “She’s alone.”
A storm was rolling in over the Ben Sea when they finally made it to the first bride to Chithoobra. Kyosti’s stomach churned as they came down the narrow track from the north to the broad road coming from the farmlands in the west. The road was crowded with people, horses, and wagons, all looking nervously at the looming clouds. Kyosti’s skin prickled with the growing iciness in the air, the smell of freezing rain and snow. It would be a cold storm.
Lechen often reflected on what it took to be a god.
Not because she wanted to be one, but because Tusu Nasala had so many.
In the end, they passed through the mountains to the other side and stood over the Ben Sea. In the distance, far away, they spied a dark shape that might be Chithoobra.
