Chapter 19.2

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Sabrina was the first one up the following morning. She savored the rare time to herself as she lingered over the small breakfast she'd ordered in the small dining area at the rear of Khediva's living quarters, and sighed a little when she heard footsteps approaching. They weren't Tirqwin's; she was intimately familiar with the sound of his stride. It was with relief that she recognized Ford as he entered the dining area, going straight to the provender and barking out an order for a cup of tea, which he'd learned to like.

He didn't seem to notice her until he turned around, blowing the steam off his tea. "Oh. Good morning."

His sulky expression told her something was up. "What's happened?"

"I've been summoned again. The Committee obviously has more to add to what they said last time. Though I can't imagine what." He sat down across the table from her and scowled into his cup. "Probably just to impress upon me my utter unworthiness to meddle with things only Wayfarers understand."

Sabrina let out a sympathetic sigh. "Oh, Ford. I'm sorry. What a horrible thing to start off the day. Maybe at least they won't keep you long."

"I can hope, but I've never met a more long-winded group of pontificators—and I've been subjected to more than one lecture by the Council of Trême!"

"I'd come with you for moral support, if I didn't know that would only make things worse," Sabrina said.

He gave a wry little snort. "It would, I'm afraid."

"Well, when you get back how about I get Khediva to conjure up some hot fudge sundaes and we can have a little pity party."

Ford seemed to really look at her for the first time that morning, and the sudden concern in his eyes surprised her. "I'm sorry," he said.

"For what?"

He paused. "Everything."

Sabrina shook her head slightly, then gave him a rueful smile. "So am I."

Ford looked at her for a moment more, then downed his tea in one long gulp and got to his feet. "I'm going to be late."

"Well, good luck."

"Thanks." He hesitated again, as if he wanted to say something else; then he rested his hand on her shoulder for a moment and left.

What was that all about? Sabrina wondered, looking after him. She shrugged, finishing her tea and contemplating having another cup. After an internal debate, she compromised by ordering it decaffeinated, smiling as she remembered her Aunt Euphrasia's indignant remarks when her doctor suggested she switch to decaf tea.

She was halfway through when Scotty wandered in. "Good morning," he said, as he passed her on his way to the provender.

"Good morning," she replied, stifling a sigh. His speech patterns were still all wrong, even now that he'd mastered English again.

"Oh. Uh, I meant..." he paused and grimaced in thought. "Man, I gotta get some caffeine in me or those damn zombie hunters'll be after me again?"

The tentative way he said it made her smile. She recognized it as one of the phrases he'd picked up from the video records Khediva had shown them; he was trying, with indifferent success, to integrate them into his everyday conversations.

Encouraged by the smile, which looked different from the pained ones she usually managed, Scotty grabbed his coffee from the provender, ordered a plate of what the research scientists called "hash" (which Sabrina suspected was really just colorful recyclables from the environmental system), and sat down across from her. "Howya doin', Sea Creature?" he essayed.

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