The veranda stretching around the entire perimeter of the house afforded him excellent views of the night sky, and he wondered why he’d never looked before. Somewhere far away, his mother was looking at the same night sky, he knew it.
Dael tilted his head back and inhaled deeply, curled his hands into fists. He could feel it, blue power dancing just beneath a skin. On a night like this, if he wished it enough, he could raise a man from the dead.
Footsteps startled him, and he spun, ready for a bow or a sharp word.
Flavia said, “Dael.”
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