Adalard adjusted his bag and walked across the yard. He scanned the tracks left behind by the transport Samara was driving. He flexed his fingers and called on his powers within to mark the tracks.
He breathed deeply, thankful when the unusual fatigue didn’t reappear as it had on his transport. Whatever had caused the drain and the lingering effects must be confined to his vessel. Until he discovered what it was, he didn’t want to return to the Rayon I. If he was affected, then potentially everyone on board—at least every Curizan on board—could also be in danger.
The sound of the door closing alerted him that Mason was coming. The man had pulled on a thick, dark brown coat and gloves. He brushed snowflakes off a black hat that was almost identical to the one Samara wore before he placed
