“I can be wrong,” Renarin said. He hesitated, then closed his eyes—as if carefully thinking through his next words. “You are in darkness, Taravangian, and my father thinks you are lost. I lived through his return, and it taught me that no man is ever so far lost that he cannot find his way back. You are not alone.” The young man opened his eyes, stepped forward, then lifted his hand and presented it toward Taravangian. The gesture felt awkward. As if Renarin wasn’t quite sure what he was doing. He wants me to take his hand. Taravangian didn’t. Seeing it made him want to break into tears, but
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