"I am alive," she thought to herself. She was riding an ember palfrey, but the reins were not in her hand; they were held by Chaenath.
Callaway still couldn't believe what had happened the day before. At one moment, she was at the noose of that rope, and at the next, she saw a dead man spewing his guts on the ground. Deep down, she was glad that her life was not the one that was lost. But deep down, she was also sad that Chaenath wouldn't be able to come to these lands.
Sensing Callaway's worries, Chaneath spoke. "You don't need to worry about it," she said. "I would rather not come in these chaotic lands."
"Tell me this again," Dalyor shouted. "Why am I carrying you two in my horse?"
His black destrier was meant to carry maybe two people, but now, it was carrying three. And yet, the horse didn't care. A boy and a dwarf didn't equate to a full-grown man.
"Don't even think that I like this," Nibur grunted. "It's just because I don't want to ride with Thraos."
