“Khizara,” Moragh said softly. “We’ve had, I mean, there’s news from Khizara.”
Silence engulfed the room. It hung over the three of them, begging to be broken and pleading that it be allowed to remain. It smothered the sounds of breathing. It waited to be shattered. When Permac dropped his mug, the pieces of broken pottery and the spray of hot tea seemed to happen in slow motion.
“And, let me guess,” Linsora said, her voice not much above a growl, “you got this news of yours four days ago.” She stood up and started picking up pieces of the broken mug.
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