CHAPTER 33
I sat on a bark-stripped log outside of my trees. A pot of water boiled over an open flame. The sun was low in the sky behind me. Ahead, in the coming night, bright stars sat miles above a smattering of black clouds. I thought it might rain tonight.
With my staff between my legs, I used the corvo and whittled away as best I could against tempered iron and wood.
I heard Rasheed before I saw him.
I stopped what I was doing, but sat still, my head hung low.
He sat down beside me.
For several long moments we were quiet, and only the sound of the sticks and kindling crackling and snapping inside the open fire, along with the songs of crickets, and the occasional croak from frogs was heard. The night air carried with it an autumn chill. It felt invigorating, but brought a promis
