Ling was a steady travel companion. With days of riding to fill, Cymon loping happily at their sides, Hettie told her story at her pace. The more she told him, the more she wanted to tell him. Ling was a good listener, and it felt good to unburden herself to someone from her old life. Someone who knew her sister’s habits, who’d known the ranch and her parents.
In turn, he recounted his time with Abby in San Francisco. She loved hearing all the details about the training she’d undergone with the sorcerer Ling called Auntie Wu. He went into minute detail, seeming to know Hettie wanted to hear about the food they’d eaten, the state of the beds and rooms they’d inhabited. Abby had sounded comfortable. Happy, even.
Then Ling recounted the strange events that had led him to discover the Divisi
