World Fire

What am I to do?

Stocke, who healed unnaturally fast, regained consciousness the next day. Despite Belvon’s protests, he clawed his way up to his feet despite his dizziness and made to leave the room.

‘Stocke, my boy,’ Belvon Laire said with his usual dramatic voice. ‘Lay down, rest, there is no good to come from rushing oneself.’

‘Thank you, Belvon, but no. I’m in quite a bad mood, need some time to myself.’

Stocke returned to his room, shut the door behind him, and stared out at the field outside. Flowers were blooming, the wind brushed at the grass, and the sun gleamed from the east. The weather mocked his foul mood.

From the events surrounding the Laire mansion, he felt so utterly useless – and betrayed! He noticed the indecision in Locke’s posture and face. He saw how he had edged closer to hand Caria Laire over to Straza. But … was it really his right to be mad? Caria Laire had treated him so poorly back at the containment camp. She had aided Kelnaxx Laire in the cutting off his ears and tails.