Anger was a much better feeling than this cold, nervous fear. I let it warm me, spark me to movement. I threw objects into sacks, hardly seeing them, and carried them down the stairs, where our half dozen horses (the former property of unsuccessful knights) waited to be loaded and led.
And beyond them, Rindargeth. My warming anger crumbled. I could not think of leaving him here—but what option did we have? To bury so vast a creature would require days of taxing effort from us all, and it was surely imperative that we leave before Rindargeth’s master could act to prevent it. The more distance we could put between ourselves and the tower by sunset, the better off we would be. I had no time to be staring past the horses, past the trampled remains of my wreath of flowers, at what had been my
