CHAPTER EIGHT
WHERE WALKER WENT THAT night, I have no idea. One moment he was in the stable, his pain there for everyone to see; the next moment he had retreated within himself and walked out on his friends. No one saw where he disappeared to. He wasn’t at the Faire, he wasn’t hanging around other stables, he wasn’t drowning his sorrow in the beer hall, and he didn’t show up for dinner, which, honesty compels me to admit, was one of the grimmest affairs it’s been my misfortune to attend.
“What are we going to do?” Bliss asked the silent group gathered around the grill, everyone with plates of chicken and salad in their laps, but no one with the appetite to eat. No one but Moth, who growled deep in his chest with happiness as I fed him tidbits of my chicken. “Should we tell the tourney st
