Eighteen – 04

[This post is from Matt’s point of view.]

“Not much time,” Gideon murmured, then shook his head slightly. “But it’s something.” He frowned for a second. “Do you think Daegon was wrong, then?”

“On the distance, yes.” Matt took a deep breath. “The rest—well. I doubt we could be so lucky in that. I think he was probably right about what he saw. Just not the distance.”

Gideon nodded. “Well, come on. Anselm’s in the usual spot. I doubt he’ll have me round up many of the other seniors. It’ll be an easy decision.”

“I hope so,” Matt said, his stomach sinking even as his spirits lifted—if only for a few seconds. “Did you send anyone else out after he got back?”

Gideon shook his head. “Not yet. I think he was waiting to talk to you at more length—all of you. Something tells me he’ll be surprised that it took you this long to come.”

“Well, sometimes we take advantage of the luxury of time to think,” Thom said quietly as they headed into the Hunt’s quarter of the village, among tents and cookfires and the foundations of what would someday be their cabins and cottages when they were home rather than out riding. “Until we got this word—well. We thought we had that luxury.”

Gideon shot him a faint, crooked smile. “That’s exactly what it is—a luxury. All of this is.”

Thom nodded, looking thoughtful for a second. Matt just shivered.

He was far, far too right about that, uncomfortably so.

All of this is a luxury.

“What do you think Anselm will say?” Matt asked.

Gideon shrugged. “Hard to say. Depends on what, exactly, we know, and what else Daegon told him after I left them together. They were still talking when I left. I guess we’ll see.”

“I guess so,” Matt murmured.

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