Time had no meaning here, andtrying to guess how long he had been in this place was impossible. Those considerations and more plagued her as she considered what to do. As the immeasurable journey continued, Tristantired again. ”Smiling, Tristan looked back up at the bevy of huge colorful butterflies.
“Yes,” he answered. As the craft’s familiar glow surrounded him, then faded away, the three women couldn’tbelieve their eyes. It would not be asconclusive as blood records, but in the wizards’ absence it would take them one step closer tothe truth. scards into his hand, drunks that tried to pick fights with him, panhandlers whining for a handout.
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