The air is crisp, but the sun shines brightly in the flawless blue sky. The waves beat a hypnotic rhythm against the cliffside, often lulling Edmund into a daze behind the wheel of Aures’ buggy. He shakes himself mentally.
“Him being home means nothing good,” Aidan decides, pulling his great coat tighter around his frame. “If they truly sent him on break, as he says, then there’s been trouble on-base, but even the time Aeron ‘accidentally’ mowed down three officers with a tank hadn’t been enough for him to fall out of favour with them.”
“He’s absolutely lying,” Aures confirms, sighting along her rifle. “He’s always been awful at covering his tracks. I just couldn’t press him on it. Imagine if I’d gotten blood on Mummy’s rug.”
“This is insane,” Edmund surmises. “The man is a walking time bomb. Anything could set him off! Surely he should be locked up somewhere?”
“You reckon he’d ever let himself be caged?” Aures responds.