At first, she tried to follow the duel, but the image of Mikey in chains kept drawing her back to the shelter. He had been whisked out of sight. Irenya stared at the flimsy structure until her eyes ached. Was he peering out through a small gap hoping to see her? Why had she not sensed the chains? How long had he been shackled? Days, if the fleetwalker’s gaunt face was any indication. She paced to contain her distress, glancing toward the shelter, to the duelling men, and again at the shelter. The people were now silent apart from the occasional gasp or a child’s restless complaint. Even the forest birds had either settled or flown elsewhere.
After days of cold rain, the unseasonable heat beat down on her head, speeding her pulse. The sun rose higher and Irenya could see Elaaron and Riadan
