Meanwhile, back in the villa nestled within Silver Blade City's outer cliffs, Nolan stood barefoot outside the front archway, arms crossed, gaze fixed on the distant road like a man watching the horizon for an approaching storm.
The wind stirred his coat lightly. Behind him, the villa was silent—too silent.
This is all bullshit.
He rubbed his temples. Lirazel had been repeating the same thing for the last three hours: "They're coming, Nolan. The enemy is near. They're coming."
Coming? When?!
He kicked a rock off the edge of the stone path. It tumbled down the slope, disappearing into the brush below. Nolan paced.
"Where the fuck are they?" he muttered. "She keeps saying they're coming. But are they? Seriously? Is this just another goddamn false alarm? Is this what I was not sleeping for? Is she telling me the truth about how the invader would sense them? To stand here sweating while some cryptic succubus oracle keeps whispering riddles like a broken record?"
