Chapter Forty-Three
Last Day
The morning was dark and bitingly cold. Huldar stomped the snow from his boots and entered the marquee, and warmth melted against his skin like a healer’s touch. Andel’s face shone dimly in the firelight. She looked up and smiled, then returned to her notes. They had both worked through the night, and now it was almost dawn he wanted to show her something.
Last page … she said.
“W-a-e-n-n … t some tea?” he offered.
She continued her work. “Look around, Huldar of Leth,” she said. “The tide of humor has stolen your boat.”
Boat?
Exactly!
Still mystified, he wandered toward the fire and the ever-present simmering kettle.
With warm cups clasped in their hands, Huldar led Andel the short distance to the Djan’rū. After many long hours incorporating the improv
