“And to you,” said Araevin. “I will see you again before too many seasons pass.”
“We’ll be waiting for you both.” Starbrow clapped his shoulder and took his hand in a firm grip. “Fair travels, my friend,” he said.
Araevin returned his handclasp and turned to Maresa. He swung himself up into the saddle of the roan, and patted the horse’s neck. “All right,” he said. “I am ready.”
Touching his heels to his horse’s flanks, he put Myth Drannor behind him and rode out to see where the road would take him.
Вы читаете Final Gate
