“Oh holy gods, I never thought it’d be this bad. There’s not a damn bit of furniture left!”
“It’s been tidier,” Arren said dryly. “Come in.”
“I brought food,” said Bran, putting the box down on the table. “Ain’t much, but I figured yeh could use it. How are yeh feelin’?”
“Not too bad,” said Arren, who’d spent half the night lying awake, trying to find a position to lie in that wouldn’t make his neck hurt.
There was fresh bread and dried meat in the box, along with some apples, carrots and cheese, and some wine. Arren took a large helping and ate ravenously. After days of virtual starvation, it felt like the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted in his life.
Bran left him in peace and began trying to clean up some of the mess, muttering swearwords under his breath when he saw the slashed hammock and broken windows. “Gods damn them, those sons of bitches, if I could get my hands on them . . .”
“Bran?”
“Yeah?”
“You don’t really think I’m mad, do you?” said Arren.
Bran paused. “No, not really, but I can’t say I—well, I’m a little worried about yeh, I’ll say that. I mean, yer changing, yeh know. Yeh ain’t like yeh used to be.”
“How d’ you mean?” said Arren.
Bran took some time to think about that. “Well, yer . . . I dunno, just different. I just keep hopin’ . . .”
“Hoping what?”
“Hoping that one day we’ll get our old Arren back,” said Bran, with touching sincerity.
For some reason that gave Arren a pang of guilt. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what—I don’t know how I’m changing. But I can’t help it. Now Eluna’s gone, I just feel . . . lost. I haven’t stopped feeling lost since the day she died. She wasn’t just my partner; she was part of me. And now I don’t know what to do any more.”
“I know,” said Bran. “Everyone knows.” He looked grim. “After she died, that’s when yeh stopped bein’ the Arren I knew. An’ now I don’t think that’s ever gonna change.”
Arren shook his head and stared at the floor. “You’re right, Bran. Eluna was everything to me, you know that. But she’s gone, and she isn’t coming back. I have to accept that. I know I have to move on, and I’m trying.”
“Yeh’ll manage,” Bran said encouragingly. “What about Flell? Have yeh been to see her yet?”
“No. I want to see her. More than anything. But I don’t want to go anywhere near the Eyrie. You couldn’t—you couldn’t take a note to her for me, could you?”
“Sure,” said Bran. “I’m off-duty today. Yeh got any paper?”
“Uh . . . no.”
“Well, use a bit of the wrappin’ off the bread,” said Bran.
Bran couldn’t write and could read only a few words. He watched with a kind of fascination while Arren carefully wrote a message on the scrap of cloth, pausing occasionally to sharpen the piece of charcoal on the edge of the table.
Flell,
How are you? I am not very well. I had an accident a few days ago. I can’t come and see you just now; can you come and see me? I need company, and miss you.
I love you very much.
Arren
“I’ll take it to her,” Bran promised once it was finished. “What are yeh gonna do today?”
Arren sighed. “I really should go to work.”
“What? Are yeh mad?”
“Apparently. But I’ve already missed a week. If I don’t go in today I’ll be sacked, assuming I haven’t been already. Don’t worry, Roland will probably send me home again when he finds out why I didn’t come in sooner.”
Bran rolled his eyes. “Yeh really don’t believe in lookin’ after yerself, do yeh?”
“Maybe, but I do believe in being practical. It’s not that far to go. We probably went that distance last night, and I managed that.” Arren finished eating and stood up. “May as well make a start now. Could you pass me that piece of blanket?”
He covered up the collar again, and he and Bran left together.
“Be careful,” Bran said before they parted. “I’ll come and see yeh again tomorrow.”
“Thanks, Bran.”
Arren walked to the hatchery, taking back streets and alleys and staying away from crowds as much as possible. Inevitably, though, plenty of people saw him. He pretended not to notice them staring and pointing.
Roland was out the front of the hatchery, helping to feed the goats, and ran to meet Arren as soon as he saw him. “Arren! There you are, thank Gryphus! I