I contemplated what life might be like for a lieutenant of Benedict. Although I've never met him, the stories spin around Amber like a whirlwind of leaves -- and I only had to think about it for a few moments before realizing I'd never had been able to put up with it.
In any case, we made our way back inside and to the infirmary, where Syrana had propped up a bit and was writing furiously on parchment. I gave the sisters some space -- Gerda asked a couple of questions, and then parted. That would have been odd had I not known better, and so I let her go and approached my own self.
"What are you writing?"
She did not look up. "Letters."
"May I ask for whom?"
"Cecily and Fletcher."
"Why are you writing..."
She looked up at me quickly. "I... I want to go back home, to my father."
"Okay," I said softly. "When you are able."
She nodded assent. I could tell she wanted to be alone, and I so I left, make arrangements with Stark to let me know when Syrana could be released from the infirmary.
*****
I spent the rest of the evening getting over the malaise of shifting through Shadows with different times of day, as well as committing my spells to memory again. I believe I may have slept for an obscene amount of time, as well, and my grumbling stomach woke me the next morning. I dressed and ran down to the dining room, sitting down next to Cecily. In making small talk I said I would be leaving with Syrana once she was able, and Cecily just blinked, noting that Stark had just come down mere moments before me to grab supplies for a trip into shadow. I did the math in mere seconds, dropped a expletive or two in Cecily's lap, and took off for the stables.
As I mounted up, I could only think to myself: "Why?"
Which was quickly followed by: "Who are you asking this of?"
Back to Hold On
Ahead to Fire in the Head
Return to Diaries
Return to Griffin