Twenty-two – 03

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

“There are about to be about six hours of nasty storms rolling in and you’re out here?”

If it had been anyone else, he probably would have heard them coming.  As it was, Astrid Sifsdottir could sneak up on any of them easily and with impunity.  He wasn’t sure if it had more to do with who her parents were or how well they’d trained her to do what she did.  Few people he’d ever met—save the members of the Wild Hunt—were better scouts and hunters than Astrid.

Tory glanced back over his shoulder at her and shrugged.  “You’re out here.  Guess you’re as crazy as I am.”

“Ha!”  She came around the trunk of a tree and joined him on the riverbank, crossing her arms.  “Only because I came looking for you.”

“Really.”

“Yes, really.”  She regarded him with a piercing, arctic gaze that he was given to understand had come directly from Sif, though he’d never seen it himself.  “You and Anne are off who the hell knows where when strangers show up in town minutes after Lin gets jumped by something in the ravines and then all of a sudden you can’t be found anywhere again?  Seriously, I wanted your read on the whole thing, Lin’s back up at the village and so’s Anne.  So where could you be?  Here.  Where you always come when you want to think.  So what do you know?”

“Too much and not enough,” he said with a wry smile.  “How long do we have before those storms hit?”

“At least an hour.  Is that going to be enough time?”

“Don’t know,” Tory said.  “Depends on what you ask.”

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This entry was posted in Ambrose Cycle, Book 8, Chapter 22, Story and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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