Kaelen went back to the inn with a secret communication stone.
It was small, no larger than his thumbnail, smooth and warm and faintly glowing. Aliar had pressed it into his palm before they parted, his dark eyes bright with mischief, his smile soft and knowing.
"Come see," Aliar had whispered. "There is a fruit orchard behind the inn, it glows at night."
Kaelen had nodded. He had not spoken. He had not trusted his voice to not sound guilty.
Now he stood in the doorway of his room, the stone hidden in his pocket, his heart pounding with something that was not quite fear and not quite excitement. Lysander was reading by the candle. Alistair was sharpening his knife. They looked up when he entered, their eyes bright with relief.
"You were gone a long time," Lysander said.
"I was exploring," Kaelen said. "The village is beautiful."
"You should rest," Alistair said. "You are still weak."
"I will," Kaelen said. "In a moment."
