I look up. Jak is frowning.
‘Yes, of course,’ I murmur, but I can’t shake the sensation, and it’s morphing quickly into a feeling of abject dread.
‘Do you sometimes get a notion that…’ I trail off, not sure what to say, not sure what Jak will think.
I don’t need him going to the others with tales ofMount Morgan’smind fraying at the edges.
But when I glance over at him, his expression isn’t of confusion or concern for me.
‘That we’ve forgotten something?’ he asks very quietly.
I nod. ‘Something very important.’
He’s uncharacteristically grim as he looks down at his cup. ‘I get flashes sometimes. Since we got back.’
‘And I,’ I admit. ‘I remember the mission, I recall the Dark Realms, taking Soreno and Tori to be sold.’
‘And Locke urging me to return,’ Jak says, nodding. ‘Telling me the mission was almost finished and there was nothing more that was needed from me.’
‘He said the same to me,’ I murmur, staring into my dark, swirling tea as if it has the answers I seek, frowning as I wrack my brain.
But I come up with nothing.
‘You don’t think…’ Jak’s words stall, and he searches my face. ‘You don’t think some conjurer…’
I voice the thought aloud. ‘Worked some magick upon us?’
He snorts. ‘I know. It’s a silly fear. They couldn’t have. Not without us knowing.’
I raise a brow at him, not so sure, and he looks uncertain.
‘I suppose there’s no way of finding out for sure. Locke hasn’t returned yet, has he?’ he asks.
‘No, but he isn’t the only one who could tell us,’ I say, standing abruptly and almost hitting the top of my head on the thick beam that runs the length of the cottage ceiling.
I tip my tea down my throat, ignoring the burn as it scalds my tongue.
‘Come on.’
‘Where to?’ Jak asks, but he stands as well.
He brings the cup with him instead of gulping it and I give him a narrow-eyed look.
‘That better find its way back to our shelf,’ I warn, ‘or you’ll be paying Nora to make us another.’
He rolls his eyes. ‘I’ll not lose it,’ he promises.
We make our way down the main thoroughfare, still somewhat boggy from the recent winter thaw, past the other cottages, the grain store, smithy, butcher, apothecary, Trading Post, and baker to a larger building, the hall where the village’s council presides.
It’s still quite early, so there aren’t many up yet, which I’m glad of. I usually try to ignore the stares and the people who practically leap out of my way when it’s livelier, but it’s difficult. I’ve lived in Halsford since it was barely one small hall and a couple of houses. But memories here are long, and more than one resident knows my name, or perhaps, even saw me in a black fight while they were enslaved. Then, of course, there’s whathappened two years ago. Nothing’s been the same since before the fire. I’m tolerated here now, but not much more than that.
We arrive at Halsford’s Village Hall. So far, half the building has been converted to stone from its original timber, with the rest to be completed over the next few weeks. I peer up at the remaining charred beams with a builder’s eye, noting that they’re still strong enough to support the roof for another winter at least.
I rap on the front door, Jak waiting just behind me looking a little puzzled.
It opens a moment later and a human woman pokes her head out.
‘Bit early to speak to the magistrate, isn’t it?’ she asks.
