Page 3652 -- CCCI.

Chapter Three Hundred One: ‘Gentle listener, prepare thy Path...’
Click to display entire chapter at once -- (mobile link)

Hector was anxious. At this point, it was starting to seem like the reports from Vantalay were being purposely designed to test his patience. The Rainlords kept saying that they would be returning soon. Soon. Always soon.

Apparently, they’d encountered another Vanguardian field marshal, this one named Graves, but things had worked out with the guy. It was nothing to worry about. Everything was under control.

Supposedly.

The more they told him that, the less inclined he was to believe it.

Not to mention, they’d consulted him for his opinion about an offer from the freaking Monster of the East--who’d apparently popped over there, too. But no, it was fine. Nothing to worry about. They hadn’t accepted that offer.

But now there was a new offer, this one from Graves. And they’d decided to stay a bit longer.

And Zeff was still missing, of course.

Ugh.

But what was he to do about any of it? He couldn’t justify leaving Warrenhold, right now. Not with Bloodeye still being a factor. While it seemed unlikely that another attack would arrive, they couldn’t simply assume that it wouldn’t. Especially if Bloodeye somehow caught wind that Hector had left the country. That might just provoke an attack all on its own.

Or at least, that was Garovel’s reasoning. And Hector found it difficult to disagree with him.

He hated feeling so powerless. So uncertain. He much preferred when Warrenhold felt like a place of comfort for him, not when it was starting to make him worried and stir crazy.

He could make some trips out to Lorent, though, especially to talk to Abbas about his progress with the Candle. The Sunsmith had been working on it whenever Hector visited--and sometimes looking exhausted to the point of collapse.

More than once, Hector had all but forced the man to take a break and have a meal with him.

“Thank you for doing this again,” said Raheem Saqqaf, one of Abbas’ many sons. “And I apologize for him. I know this must be a hassle for you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” said Hector. They were standing outside together on a grassy hill, a short distance away from the great tree that housed Cocora’s Candle. “How’s he been doing?”

Raheem looked toward the tree with a heavy breath. “He’s still hardly letting anyone into the workshop with him. For our own safety, he says. But he looks more haggard by the day. I am not sure he is even sleeping.”