Philippe did not know how long he stood there that way. At one point he turned to the sky, massaging his face and neck, and stared blankly at the constellation of Bellicor directly overhead, the bright red star at its heart gleaming brightly. When he turned his face to the heavens again, the constellation was far down in the western sky.
He stood at the parapet, propped up on his elbows, head in his hands, contemplating the thick, impenetrable city wall, when he heard the door open behind him. A few cautious footfalls on the stone and then a voice.
“Ah, Jean-Louis, there you are.”
Philippe remained in his position, unmoved by the sound of Sébastien’s voice.
“Jean-Louis?”
No response.
“Jean-Louis?”
Philippe heard tentative footsteps behind him, approaching. Sébastien came up and laid
