CHAPTER 59
When Penrys awoke for the last time, it was well past dawn. The friendly sound of morning activity around the camp had helped her feel safe at last.
The healers’ tent was empty, but she detected the hand of Hing Ganau in the pile of clean clothing laid on the chair Zandaril had been using the night before. On top was a roll of the same wrapping the healer had used on her left hand and a small but sturdy ceramic pot sealed by wax. The fragment of chain lay next to it.
She swung her legs over the side of the cot and, when her head stopped spinning, she picked up the pot and gave it a sniff. For my neck. Nice of her. Must think I’m going somewhere.
The sight of new boots made her sigh. Ah, yes, my old ones are still in Kunchik. I hate breaking in new boots.
She dressed, tentat
