“I wonder how father is doing right now.” Rhylor was seated in the saddle of a relatively tame gray roan behind Vankesa. The group had now put the beautiful Van Mara far behind them, and they were on the Caspedile Road once more, heading this time toward Elvinia. It had only been a few hours past since his father had allowed them all to return to Elvinia—and, like any sane father, he argued when Rhylor would be going. “I shan’t have another word of this, Lord Vattiksi!” he had argued with Artturi. “Not another word! Thou and thy friends may go, but in no way canst thou take my son with thee!”