Maybe, he thought, trembling, maybe this is the feeling you get when someone in the house has died. It had been two hours to litchfield when the countess dorothy rose from the airship dock at storisende. Her chest was heaving and it glistened with sweat.


  • .
  • .
  • .

He stooped down and entered the door of the building across the street. As for himself, someday the war would be over-he supposed-and then he would carry out his long-postponed intention of seeking out his parents.