Caitlin, behind Zendedari, stirred uncomfortably. Barry's sorrow appeared more than he could bear. She wanted to reach out to him, make an attempt to ease his obvious suffering.
Do not!
The command was sharp in her mind, clear and in a tone that brooked no argument. Zendedari remained motionless, as if carved from stone. Barry's words did not appear to move him in any way.
Byron shrugged, his face twisted with pain. "When we thought you were dead, we searched for your body. Months, years even. You were never out of our thoughts. You were my family, Zendedari, my friend. It was hard to learn to be completely solitary. Kendalf and Enoch survived the centuries because, as alone as they had to be, they had a bond, an anchor to keep them strong through the bleak centuries. You were mine. Once you were gone, my struggle became immense."
When Zendedari remained silently on guard, Caitlin pushed at his back.
