Chapter 29: Aldric Sorne and the Letter to His Father

The outer terrace of the Ash Gate was a broad, flat shelf of cooled lava that jutted from the volcanic approach like a table that had been set and then abandoned — and then, slowly, over a very long time, covered in ash. It was not a comfortable place to sit, but it was flat and it was outside, and after the passage it was both of those things so thoroughly that we sat on it anyway.

No one spoke for a long time.

Dara had cleaned her blade and was now sitting with her forearms on her knees and her back to the gate, looking at nothing. Cassian had established the perimeter as a matter of instinct before sitting down, and was now doing what I recognised as his version of rest, which involved no visible signs of resting. Breck was beside me, his left arm held at a precise angle that suggested he had calculated the position that would cause the least discomfort and then adopted it with engineering exactness, and would not admit this to anyone.