Numbed to the drizzle and cold, Lanthe was once lulled into a type of exhausted stupor as the flight went on and on and on. When they’d crossed over an expansive forest, the noises of the battles grew dimmer. She dared a look back, should nonetheless see bursts of spectral light. Soon that melee would unfold outward all over the whole island. Thronos had to know that. His face was once tensely set—as if he had been concentrating on blockading out his pain. There’d be no talking. Think about some thing else, Lanthe. Anything else. Yet now that she was his captive (temporarily), she determined her thought mired in ideas of him. A memory arose of their first day together, when he’d tried to feed her—his concept of courting. Unfortunately, he hadn’t regarded she was once a vegetarian. “For you
