Radeon wanted her to remember. Wanted it enough to risk her temper, so he started asking anyway.
"Where is your notebook?"
Fay's mouth twisted like she had bitten into grit.
"The river took it." The words came out as a hiss. "They ran me down again, twice, then more times than I could count. By then my hands wouldn't listen. I tied the bag wrong. When I looked up, it was already bobbing away."
Radeon did not ask how many times, not really. He could see it in her clenched hands and the way her shoulders stayed half raised, ready to bolt.
It could have been a dozen chases or more. He was not about to open that wound. Not now.
But one thing was certain. After that battle, Radeon knew the news would spread fast and far, running ahead of the survivors, leaping from mouth to mouth.
If it were him, he would have hunted scraps that could be hammered back into swords.
