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Firian
It was tempting just to open the door without knocking. The whole town of Tánuil was his. But he scuffed the dirt with the toe of his boot a few times and knocked. At first, no one answered. Rian had told him Bard was here. Firian should have known better than to trust him. He was going with Maya now, and had always had a strained relationship with the truth.
The door opened. Finally. A stranger looked out. Everything about the man was thin—his body, his brown clothes, the hair on his face. Even his lips and fingers were thin. The wavy and distorted skin around one of his ears suggested that he had once been badly burned.
His throat bobbed when he saw Firian, happiness and fear alternating on his face. The end result was confusion.
“Is Bard here?” Firian asked. Something abo
