“I have no idea. She just ran onto the street.” The driver looked around. His voice sounded shaken.
They were on the main street that ran to the hilly part of the City where Sady lived. The walls of the doga complex were to the right, the Chevakian Archive and the Scriptorium Library to the left. This street did not normally get busy with ordinary citizens; today, it was deserted.
Orsan knelt next to the girl. “It’s all right. We won’t get angry. We’re just glad you’re all right. Where are your parents?”
The girl looked up. Her eyes were bright blue.
The look on her face reminded Sady of the knife-wielding madman they had caught last night.
“I think she’s too young to understand you,” the driver said.
“She’s southern,” Sady said. Those eyes gave him the chills.
Orsan frowned at him.
