Aftermath
Elaaron …
Elaaron waited for her angry confusion to resolve itself. Her chin lifted and the grey eyes watched him aslant, still darkened with upset. He knew from the movement of her jaw that her teeth were nipping the inside of her cheek. In a moment the questions would come.
She lowered her chin. ‘Try what?’ The tone of her voice was not promising.
‘A simple task,’ he said. ‘Call the light. Bring a flame to your hand.’
‘I’ve not done that before.’
He waited.
She tilted her face and squinted at the sun. Across one cheek was a line of dried blood, the kind of injury a careless thorn might make. He contained the impulse to lick his thumb and wipe the grime away, or remove the splinter of wood entangled in her dusty hair. Her riding leathers were wet and smeared with the pig’
