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Rowan chews his lip.That sounded vaguely encouraging, he says, moodily. “Have you heard somebody else say that? Go to Lady Jeren and the Feyna. They will help you. They will keep you safe. He had a van. Well, more like a really tiny camper. It was a mess. All painted up with swirls and shapes and the inside was disgusting. It smelled like when grass has been left to go mouldy. Catherine looks down at her feet.You dont have to be like that, she says. “Why would I think you fancy him? That doesnt matter, says Derrick, shaking his head. You know what hell do… I got upset, says Catherine, meekly. Started getting hysterical. He had to calm me down. What? There isnt time to change, is there? Jeren asked. The sword.The voice was older, masculine and filled with pity.Where is my sword, Scion of Jern? Shan traced his path back along the hilltops then down into the trees towards the main road the Holters would surely follow. By tracing the route they would take, he should be able to meet them. So why wasnt it working? Not him. Indarin. Fethan gave a snort of frustration. He should have known better. Respect was everything, especially for a gift such as this. Respect and gratitude. Is everything okay? Your father would expect me to look after you. No reflection. Only darkness. But Fethan... You going to write it then? she asks, looking him full in the face. Jerens hand slipped free. She vibrated with anger. I need the warriors..