Sleep, sweet babe, the dark night through, In Lufra’ s arms and mine, In Lufra’ s arms and mine. Feolin lullaby (trad. ) Fort had been aiming to hit the main track out of the Empty Lands before nightfall, but because he had to swing east to miss the Hssrda camp, he nearly missed it. As the Shadow caught the Sun and pulled it down over the horizon, the last rays caught one of the light-colored rocks that marked the trail. His heart thumped once, painfully hard. Thank Lufra! Griff lay ominously still, his head resting against Fort’s chest, braced by his cradling arm. In the fading light, Fort peered at his face, half-obscured by his disheveled hair. When he smoothed it aside, the sword calluses on his palms caught on the silky strands. A rush of some stupid feeling welled up in his throat. The tumbler’s color had improved in the last hour, his elegant mouth no longer quite so pale. Fort swung the vran onto the trail in the lengthening shadows. He bent his head, burying his face in Griff’s hair.
