Aren caught hold of Coralyn’s arm, but, knowing what sort of woman she was, he didn’t ask her to run. “Thank you.” “Forgive her. She loves you.” He dropped the old woman’s arm, feeling Lara’s gaze on him. Knowing she was listening. “She doesn’t know what love is.” “That’s why you should forgive her.” Before Aren could answer, Coralyn extracted a glass jar from the folds of her dress and threw it to the ground, thick, choking smoke filling the room. They needed to get out. Now.
