Freida glared at Anders, her lips pursed tight.
“Well, don’t you?”
“Of course I do, Anders!” Freida relented. “But I am vexed…so highly vexed by this that I can hardly think! Here, we should be feeling splendid about Mrs. Macy’s safe return— from a really horrifying and abominable testing—rather than doubting and questioning whether her redeemer is, in fact, the hybrid demon of Kahrnahrgx’s making!” Tipping her head toward where Ercen paced, she added, “At least, that is what she’s questioning.”
“Sure, Freida. Sure. It is, as you say, completely vexing!” Anders ground his right boot toe into the loose stone at his foot. He looked at Freida pointedly, adding, “And you must admit that it is a question worth asking,”
“Except that it’s made Mrs. Macy into a miserable mess, or a liar, or both,” Freida replied, staring affectionately at a woman she’d known her entire life. A woman of deep suffering, to be sure, but also a woman of decency and strength.
“We should go listen in,” Anders suggested.
“You’re probably right,” Freida conceded.
The two walked over to a wide, broken stalagmite roughly in the shape of a bench. This put them just to the left and behind where Heidi and Johann sat on either side of Gudrun, while Ercen paced before them.
“Then why isn’t he here?” Ercen said heatedly.
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