Broken Ones~
Nigel Willoughby
Jorendon
Forsmoon, 4418
Nigel tapped a finger on his knee. Jules’ head drooped in that odd sideways tilt that meant he was sifting through the morass of Jorendon’s minds in search of one in particular. He was hunting the unique signature that matched John Deighton.
“Well, is he still at the palace?”
Jules cracked one eye open. “Stop rushing me. I lost my place.”
Nigel rolled his eyes. The man had developed an annoying penchant for theatrics over the years. The carriage wheels clacked over the cobbles. A dog barked. Crickets chirped. Paint peeled.
“It cannot be that hard to find such an aberration,” said Nigel. “Where is he?”
Jules sat up straight again and stretched his shoulders.
“You were far more patient when I first met you.”
“I am patient. I am
