Whistling wind.
His heart pounds as he tries to get his bearings. It’s the heartlanding. But...the train isn’t moving, and Arisanna is nowhere to be seen.
The curtains are drawn over the windows, but faint daylight seeps through them, illuminating the car well enough.
“Arisanna?”
There’s no response, and panic takes root in his gut. Where is she? Where is he, for that matter? He yanks the nearest curtain open, and his dread only grows.
The streets of Levina? Or some other Nunian city?
So much for their moonlit lake. There won’t be any swimming tonight.
More concerning, though...where is Arisanna? He can’t be here alone, can he? The heartlanding doesn’t work that way.
As he searches the cityscape for some sign of her, movement catches his eye. The streets are empty of people, except for...is that Rominy? He can’t be real, can he?
What in the Wildthorne Woods is going on?
As Cerian watches, Rominy turns toward the train with a wild look in his eyes. It’s as if he’s looking straight at Cerian.
Then Rominy says something, but another train whistle drowns out his words. Not that Cerian could have heard him through the closed window.
Something about Rominy’s troubled gaze plucks at Cerian’s panic, and he’s ready to hurry toward the door when Elowyn’s disembodied voice echoes in his ear.
“Cerian. Tell Tharios.”
Her voice is breathy and pained, and he freezes. “Elowyn?”
He gazes at Rominy standing on the platform again, and his stomach knots. Before Cerian can move, though, the train rolls forward, leaving Rominy behind.
Cerian squeezes his eyes shut, trying to make sense of what’s happening as the train picks up speed.
“Cerian?” Arisanna’s voice almost launches him from the bench, and he snaps his gaze toward her where she sits beside him, her eyes etched in worry.
It’s night again, and the windows are dark beyond the open curtains of their train as it rolls along the tracks. His breath flows heavily as his heart pounds.
What just happened?
“What’s wrong?” Arisanna asks softly as she looks up at him.
“I...I don’t know.”
“You’re not...having regrets, are you? About last night?”
“What?” His voice comes out hoarse as he tries to comprehend her words.
“Our kiss. And...everything else.” Her cheeks have turned rosy, and it all comes rushing back. Her declaration of love. The kiss they shared. Her hands on his chest. On his ears.
Whistling wind. His palms are already tingling.
“Cerian?” Her delicate brows wrinkle, and he shakes his head.
“No, I don’t regret it,” he hurries to say before she gets the wrong impression, and relief sweeps across her features.
“Then what’s causing this wrinkle between your brows?” She slides a finger along his face, and he swallows.
“Did you...see Rominy?”
