The old man looked at him, and he recognized now that shadow of pain crossing his features. It happened every so often, when he looked at him, though less these days than it used to. “Go,” Yn Garr said, breaking the silence. “Retrieve Jaeth’s eye. The road still stretches before us. Bartleby!” And he whistled for the big, grey dog, who came bounding over the fence and into his arms. Enosh walked away, so he wouldn’t have to listen to the sound of an old man crying.
