Maggie leaned against the metal railing of the watchtower, arms crossed, her gaze lost on the ashen lands of the center. The dust kicked up by patrols settled back in dull swirls, like ash in a light already dead.
She had received the report an hour earlier.
Dylan had been captured.
By Pilaf's troops, according to Alka's cold, clipped words. Infiltration of a convoy. Interception of a message meant for the Marshal. Spotted. Caught. Interrogated.
And finally, charged as a spy.
Maggie didn't move.
She could have screamed, smashed something, cursed the stupidity of that idiot who'd gotten himself into deep shit again. But no. She stayed there. Upright. Stillness as her only protest.
"Damn fool…" she finally murmured, barely audible.
