“Bright and early,” Karma had said last night. He kept his word.
It’s early when our horses’ hooves scramble through the hollow courtyard. Even the dawn hasn’t draped her orange and red hues over the fading shades of the indigo night sky yet. As for bright, well, that’s debatable.
While I took to my mat right after dinner, Karma and Dendup joined the party at the inn. By the look of Dendup, it must have been a good one. Eyes slit, shoulders slumped, hands clasping on to the pommel of his saddle, he’s a washed-out shadow of the lively, talkative Dendup I know.
With the morning chill burning the palms of my hand, I wrap my scarf tight. I haven’t heard Dendup utter his usual cheery good morning either. So much for the aftermath of chang. I spur on my horse and catch up with Karma, who i
