Vencian and Seris moved between the trees, choosing direction by instinct rather than certainty. The ground slanted unevenly, roots rising under fallen leaves. The forest closed in around them, holding sound beneath the canopy.
His vision still was still no good. But it was enough to receive Seris' scrutiny.
As they walked, a thought surfaced in Vencian's mind. It was fragile and unwelcome. He hoped no one would follow.
Larion's object came to mind. The single measure prepared for a moment like this. Vencian had already been used at the mansion as soon as his vision had recovered.
If it worked, Larion would now be stepping into the aftermath. A mansion torn open. A fight too visible to conceal. Authority would arrive. Order would take control. What remained would no longer belong to Therell or Malox.
Vencian said nothing.
He let the thought sit untouched as they went deeper into the forest, putting distance between themselves and what they had left behind.
