4
We were quiet as we left the scarred sanctity of Anwyn and emerged in a world of shadows and doubt. The doubt was my own, along with a curiosity that gnawed away at my thoughts like a mouse at cheese.
Tristan was our silent leader, his face a mask of indifference, but I thought I detected a faint hint of strain at the corners of his mouth. “Tristan?” He looked down at me, but I had the feeling I only had half of his attention, if that much. “Who entrusted you with Eventide?” That wasn’t the question I wanted to ask, but it was the one I had the most chance of getting an answer.
He returned to looking straight ahead as he answered my question. “Lord Blisse.”
My eyes widened. “Lady Blisse’s grandfather? And he gave you your magicum, didn’t he?”
“Yes.”
“Were you two good frien
