WHAT KIND OF AGREEMENT could Oren and Kale ever come to? Nahtaia thought. Again.
It was the one thought that nagged her as they walked through the fields toward the outstretched fingers of the Willow of D’Irdda. Kale kept his eyes ahead while Oren continually looked up at the sky behind them. Neither said any more on whatever they “agreed” upon before, and Nahtaia was losing her patience. She looked sidelong at Kale through her hair that fell like a screen between then. He seemed content. No emotion showed on his face. She frowned at his bland behavior and looked back at Oren. He flashed her a grin and she grit her teeth in response.
“How are you, Bluebird?” he asked when she looked forward again.
She didn’t look at him when she replied, “I’m fine.” She looked over her shoulder and saw
