26
After about an hour Nona suddenly stopped, laying a hand on Thomas’ arm. “Wait.”
He looked down at her, startled out of the reverie that had gripped him as they travelled through the moon-painted night. “What?” She dropped her hand from his arm.
“There are things I must tell you. I would not have you unprepared—” She broke off, looking away for a moment, her hands twisting together under her cloak.
“What things?”
Nona looked back at him, and he saw a settled resolve on her face that replaced the anxiety of a moment ago. An owl hooted softly nearby, then fell silent. “There will be great interest in you tonight. You must be ready.”
He frowned. “Interest? Why? Because I’m new?”
“Yes, but it’s more than that. There are always new Fey at a Gathering; it is one of the purposes of it,
