by Edward Bolme
“I know some healers,” he said. “They can help.”
Tiglath snorted, “Tiamat takes a dim view of those who resort to magical healing.”
Demok considered that, then said, “So?”
Tiglath cast a sideways look at him, then chuckled.
“Yeah,” she said, “I guess you’re right. I accept your offer.”
“Let’s go.”
“Hold on,” said Tiglath. “I’m not quite finished.”
Her eyes passed back and forth over the graves one more time, trying to sense the magnitude of loss.
“Any idea where Kehrsyn is?” she asked.
“Jackal’s Courtyard,” said Demok. “Her favorite.”
Tiglath smiled, thinking of the young woman’s penchant for performance, and said, “Good for her.”
The two turned and left the graves behind, walking side by side, each lost in their own thoughts. As they exited the gate, Tiglath looked up at the sun, squinting against its pale light.
“Spring will be here soon,” she said.
Demok nodded and said, “For the kids in the courtyard, it’s already here.”
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