He had gone different directions than I in the brief time we’d spent apart. I could smell the telltale scents of colder climes tangled into his hair, along with a whiff of something that I found more surprising than unfamiliar. We had left Nocturne in a hurry, and there had been three of us: wiping out our tracks with the last of the power binding us to that forsaken place had not exactly occurred to any of us, and for the most part I did not mind if we had accidentally been followed.
He needed friends too.
One ear turned slightly sideways, hint enough at a frown that hadn’t the decency to form upon my lips. I was so much a creature of the present, but memory has a way of never letting you let go of the past. Billy Pilgrim’s apparent immortality did nothing to spare him from the unsavory remembrances of war.
As my laughter trailed off, the silence deepened abruptly.
“Sdelali my pravil’no? My ostavili vseh drugih.”
He would know who I really meant. He would know how I felt; but did I?