He’d told me to meet him by the west entrance of Rillith which, thanks to Henry’s directions, I found easily. My enthusiasm at the shooting range had made me forget the time and I had to jog so that I wouldn’t be late. As I turned the last corner into a hallway, that was almost an exact replica of the main entrance, Holt was already waiting. I didn’t miss the way his eyes flicked over me, checking that I was still in one piece. I swear he thought I was as fragile as glass. On the first day he’d been away, he’d phoned three times to make sure I was okay and it was only when I told him that, if he kept ringing, I’d deliberately go out looking for trouble, that he agreed to call only once a day. “Sorry I’m late. I got carried away at the shooting range,” I said as I skidded to a halt. “The shooting range?” Holt’s eyebrows shot up. I sighed. “Don’t worry, I just had an airgun, it’s not like I’ve been running around with a bazooka.”
