Chapter 82
RYMAN’S ALL NIGHT vigil was rewarded when, just before dawn, Wycroft stirred. Still lying on his side, the old hound stretched his legs out and emitted a sleepy “Mmmmpph.” He raised his head and looked at Ryman who, unshaven and crusty-eyed, smiled at him.
“Back with the living, huh? You had me worried for awhile.”
The mental connection was weak, but Ryman could feel it again. Wycroft’s thoughts were fuzzy from the exertion of the day before and the long slumber after.
As the hound began to awaken more fully, Ryman tried to tap into the images he’d seen when alone with Thumper and the deer. Thumper’s attempt to swear the hound to secrecy was pointless. Deceit is a human art, dependent on the ability to manipulate language—spoken, written, or body—to one’s selfish advantage.
