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Essie shared a grin with Rheva. “I think we would have been friends a long time ago if you’d let out your sense of humor more.”

Rheva just grinned back.

Weylind glared at Essie. “You are corrupting my entire family.”

“I know. I am such a bad influence.” Essie plopped onto the seat next to Farrendel again.

Farrendel took her hand, sharing a smile.

Now if they would just find Melantha—and possibly Edmund—safe and sound, then perhaps she and Farrendel could finally relax and enjoy being blissfully happy.

IT WAS LATER IN THEDAY than Farrendel usually exercised, but with all the busyness of transferring trains and greeting his family in Estyra, he had not had a chance earlier.

But, he could feel the rising tension and jittery energy inside him. He needed the release to steady himself before they arrived at the border and faced the possible brewing war and news of Melantha.

None of the others questioned him when he quietly left the seating car and retreated to his personal sleeping car. Essie gave him a knowing glance but did not pause in her conversation with Rheva and her attempts to draw out Jalissa.

After tossing his shirt on the bed, Farrendel vaulted out the hatch set in the ceiling of the train car and landed on the sleek surface of the roof. He closed the hatch behind him and faced the oncoming branches.

A low hanging branch was rushing toward his head. He flipped over it, then turned his landing into a spin to avoid another branch.

He threw himself into the exertion. Not feeling. Not thinking. Just pushing his muscles, his agility, and his reactions to their limits.

He was so deeply concentrating on flipping over branches that he did not notice that he was no longer alone on the top of the train until he heard the thump of feet behind him. He flipped, spun, and landed in a crouch.

Weylind crouched behind him, his black hair loose around his shoulders and missing his usual crown. He wore a shirt and trousers without a tunic over top, and it was the most relaxed Farrendel had seen him in a long while.

“Shashon? Is something wrong?” Farrendel swayed with the rhythm of the train.

The whistle of wind alerted Farrendel to a branch whipping toward him. He gave a backward flip over the branch and caught a glimpse of Weylind rolling over the branch with the graceful ease of someone who had also practiced dodging branches on the top of a train.

When they both landed, Farrendel raised his eyebrows. “You have done this before.”

Weylind nodded, rolling his shoulders in a faint shrug. “You always needed the train’s roof more. I usually waited until you were finished before venturing up here.”

“I did not realize that.” Farrendel spun to face the front again, just in time to duck underneath a thin branch. A branch as wide as his waist skimmed three feet above the train, and Farrendel used it to launch himself into the air, coming down on the train next to Weylind, who had merely jumped over the branch.