She was also contemplating what was going to happen next. The woman knew. She knew.When class broke, Ilsa gathered her things and made a beeline for t...e door."Miss Petersson," Marsha Crow's voice called as she passed the teacher's desk.Ilsa dodged a couple of exiting classmates and stepped to the desk. The woman wasn't looking at her, but instead held out an envelope. "For you," was all she said.Ilsa took the envelope and, out of habit, said "Thank you, Ma'am."Shaking, Ilsa headed for the rest. For Silmaria, the mountain and the old god’s storm and the assassins and the whole world could be damned. Nothing else mattered. At last, she was where she belonged. * Rael ran his fingers tenderly through Silmaria’s thick tumble of black curls. Her hair was a tangled, unwashed wreck from weeks on the road, and it was still beautiful to him. “We can’t stay here,” he said quietly as his fingertips traced one of the delicate triangular ears atop her head. Silmaria slowly raised her head, her. More

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