Copyright Sandra Crook
The little band of wayfarers decided to have lunch by the river. Ires looked up at the grimy, rusted girder of the bridge from the Before-Time and wondered about the motorized vehicles which had once crossed the bridge and polluted the air.
Tears sprang to Ires’ eyes. A moment later she felt her brother-in-law’s hand on her shoulder. His eyes were rimmed red.
“Courage, friend,” Xed proposed in a wavering voice. “Myzal is not forever gone, only delayed. With the help of the Ukmyd, he shall renew and return to us stronger than ever.”
“I believe with you,” Ires declared.
The Real Cie
Tempest Nightingale LeTrope