Alystren exhaled with relief.
Then his eyes widened—Northern had struck the man. The realization landed a beat too late.
He looked at Northern sternly.
Northern hadn't dropped the elf yet. His grip remained firm around the man's throat, his feet dangling uselessly over the dark water.
"Rian, what are you doing?"
Northern's head shifted slightly, his gaze cool and measuring.
"Matter of fact, I should be asking you that. What are you doing? Why are you so far from home?"
Alystren exhaled and scratched the back of his neck, closing his eyes for a moment. Casual. Too casual.
"Don't tell me you're suspecting me right now?"
"Tell me why I shouldn't." Northern's voice was flat. "I'm following my mother's trail, and I just happen to meet you and this elf..." He paused, letting the implication hang. "For all I know, you could be in cahoots with the followers of Vitan. You've always been suspicious, after all."
'And coincidences like this don't exist.'
