“I cannot prove it—I can find no one who admits to being among Camda’s escort—but instinct tells me that Camda’s body lay in Zarthon before I left for Varaar.”
Tura turned his back and his breathing quickened.
Shurna glanced away, across the backs of the drowsing mia. Fires winked through the orchard’s trees, and the aroma of cooking blended with the pungent bite of wood smoke and the musky scent of the mia. Somewhere in the distance, a flute’s strains trilled faint bird calls. The night’s tranquility seemed a cruel affront, a hard glimpse of what they would lose if they didn’t come to their senses.
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