"I wonder …" Sedriil said quietly as they waited on the corner for the night bus back to their apartments. "I wonder if it's …"
"Don't," Skori warned, stopping him in his tracks. "Don't even suspect that it's her, brother. I know you don't like her, but Tescadji blamed no one. And it will do us no good to blame without cause. Right now, more than ever, we'll need your logic. And seeing that Meri and the elf spend a lot of time together, logic dictates that it could be anyone who had seen them, doesn't it?"
"It does," Sedriil replied contritely. "Sorry."
"Say nothing of this to the family," Skori ordered as the bus rounded the corner at the left and then came to a stop, "not even to Noroa or Garen."
"Yes, brother."
They boarded and paid the fare. The bus was crowded, so there was standing room only for the next several stops.
"Tomorrow, I think it'd be best if you started some wraith work," Skori suggested, seeing the disappointed look in his brother's eyes.
Skori's suggestion was encouraging, but it was of little effect in cheering his brother. Sedriil had been unable to keep his thoughts from returning to that conversation he had had with Meri on the first day she and Aldrec had met. Perhaps what he felt really was a premonition? No, it was illogical, not to mention impossible. He was a Kespar model, possessing only enough etheric affinity to navigate the Orb Network and work the most basic of tools and appliances. Powers of precognition were a feat of high magic, reserved only for the dragons, or at least, the most gifted elves. Still, it seemed as though the premonition, or whatever it was he felt, was a true warning. Despite his logic, he had felt compelled to share it with his sister, and now, he was glad that he had. For better or worse, something was bound to happen. The only encouraging thing was that he was not heading towards this unequipped. Knowledge was power, and he and his brother would be well armed.