The Fey proverb was cold comfort as the miles passed and Nectan and Domech continued their training. The odd sensation of their minds brushing against his in the split second before they Spoke became easier to discern. But blocking them was another matter entirely. That was harder, especially since Domech always left behind a mocking sense of superiority when Thomas failed, and the words he Spoke were always insults.
The constant vigilance wore on him. Already on edge after losing Odda, his nerves stretched to the breaking point. Missy grew tense, sensitive to his mood. She shied and fidgeted, causing him to either haul on the reins or soothe her as they rode.
In contrast to his worsening mood, the rain clouds fled before a quickening wind, revealing the sun in their wake. True spring h
