was long ago. Before you were born.’ ‘Toc the Younger,’ whispered Stavi. ‘He spoke of me?’ That this warrior was undead did not matter. Both girls rushed forward, one to either side, to hug his withered thighs. At their touch, he might have flinched, but then he reached out with his hands. Hesitated, only to settle them on the heads of the girls. As they wept in relief. The son of Onos Toolan had not moved, but he watched, and he was still smiling.
