“…Zen?” He flinched and sat up so quickly that his head spun. Huddled beneath a willow farther back on the banks of the river was Lan. Her face was drawn, her eyes large as she watched him, arms wrapped around her knees. Relief crashed into him, and he almost lay back down on the sand. Alive—she was alive. “Lan,” he croaked, and began to turn toward her. She drew back. He froze. She was looking at him with fear written plainly on her face—and the worst part was that he recognized it. Had seen it, more than once before.
