Book 4: Control

Xander

Lukewarm night air whispers through my private garden. One of the many strange things about Dun’s Crossing is how far off they seemed to keep the natural world. Buildings cover all the land within their walls, or they have flattened it into fields. I appreciate they went to the trouble of allowing us a courtyard, but it was nearly impossible to find another. These gardens pockmark Tansy Tower.

This one, however, is mine. My pride and joy. I dance my fingers over broad-leaved ferns and tip my nose into the fragrant bloom of a night mallow. There’s a path, only a few crushed shells and stones, and my feet find it by instinct rather than relying on something as shallow as sight. The plants grow so thickly that I’m not truly sure I could see it.

It’s almost enough to make me forget I just fled a diplomatic meeting with an excuse so paper-thin I would be shocked if the kafi itself could not sense my lie.

I drop to a low, nearly hidden bench