The Next Day
A pigeon flew off in a huff, feathers scattering like it had been personally offended by their laughter.
Finn watched it go, still grinning. "Never seen a bird get embarrassed before."
"You've never seen me laugh before," Lucian said.
"That too."
He stretched, rolling his shoulders. The hay had done nothing for his back—not that he needed comfort, but old habits died hard. Finn, on the other hand, looked more rested than he had in days. The bread had helped. The warmth of the barn had helped. The absence of fear had helped most of all.
Lucian stood up and walked to the open doorway. Morning light spilled across the fields. Cows in the distance. A farmer shouting at someone. Normal sounds. Normal world.
"We should go to the capital," he said.
Finn almost choked on his bread. "What?"
