Her glare stabbed at Logain. “We must mourn. We must save who we can, and mourn for the countless thousands we cannot save.” She might as well have smiled for all the effect her glares had on Logain. As he spoke, it seemed to Harine that the space turned chill and the light dimmed. She was not the only woman to hug herself against that cold. “Mourn if you must,” he said, “but mourn on the march for Tarmon Gai’don.”
