The road of of bones is where they were to pass and is the reason Lysander went to slear the road.
Morning came gray and reluctant, the sun a pale smear behind clouds that promised more snow. Kaelen woke before dawn, as he always did, the beast curled against his side, the bond humming in his chest like a memory of warmth.
The common room was quiet. A few travelers slept at the tables, their heads pillowed on their arms. The fire had burned down to embers, casting the room in shades of orange and shadow. And at the window, silhouetted against the pale light, stood Mira.
She was braiding her hair thick, dark rope that fell over one shoulder, her face turned toward the glass. The chain was wrapped around her arm again, its links catching the firelight, gleaming like oil on water.
"You're up early," Kaelen said.
She didn't turn. "Didn't sleep."
"you had a lot to think about."
"No , you beast kept stepping on my face."
