“There was another,” Lu says, taking a long drink, a dabble of red wine blotting her bottom lip before her tongue sweeps it away. “You met him, actually.” “I did?” “Yep. Twig.” I immediately remember the little boy who was in the army camp. He brought me my meal when I first met with Rip and Osrik. “He was born in Drollard?” Lu nods. “Every child who’s been born here—though it hasn’t been many—they’ve all gone into the army.” “Why?” She sends me a sidelong glance. I blow out a frustrated breath. The list of things I need to ask Slade is growing by the minute.
