All breath leaves me. “Horin is screaming?”
Damin frowns. “I have no connection to him, yet I hear him. Lyra, it may not be physical; it could be his internal fear.”
I latch onto that or I will not cope. I nod convulsively.
“As we close in I should receive an image,” Damin murmurs. He releases the reins briefly to hold me. “Then we will know more.”
Again, I simply nod.
“Porlese should be in sight within two days at this pace,” he goes on.
“Have you been there?” I ask to distract myself.
“No, but Alyssa’s father has a mansion there, and she often visits. She says it is liberal city, larger than Normur, with broad streets. Less desperation, apparently, for all trade is welcome. Even the lowliest beggar earns a living.”
Liberal, yes. So much so that slavery is accepted. Ha. I bite my tongue.
“I think Horin has a latent gift,” Damin says then. “That is why I hear him. He is still young and it has not come forth yet, but it is there.”
“Delver?” I whisper.
“That would have been obvious before now.” Damin shakes his head. “Something else. Women traditionally receive what you have, thus it cannot be any of those talents. Maybe the skills of a warrior …”
“Horin? A warrior?” I blurt.
Damin grins. “Maybe. He is only eight; give him time.”
Time is something we do not have. I pray then that my little brother has the opportunity to grow up, whether or not he is a warrior. It does not matter to me what he will be; I merely hope he gets there. I squint up into the sunshine, but it is too bright for a sight of what approaches from the sky.
“If the cover stays away we should see it closer to sunset,” Damin mutters.