It was a trick, wasn’t it? A measure of Ashanai’s dark humor? Indeed, as the tall woman laughed, her lips drew back to expose her teeth. If she’d been anyone else, Haera would have mistaken the grimace for a smile.
“When?” Haera asked, her voice calm like a windless sea.
“Does it matter?” Caeradin asked, Trina still dangling from his arms, forgotten.
Dathasha, sitting with her Icethorn cat on the bench outside the inn, cocked her head, blind eyes finding Haera. “They obfuscate our visions. Rip free the Wheel. Counter all the good we’ve done.”
They had never done good.