Then he went quiet, like he was done talking.
Sunshine let out a frustrated, jagged sigh. She kicked a small stool, sending it skidding across the stone floor. "So that's it? You're saying we should just sit down, have a nice cup of tea, and wait to die as pawns in some kind of game? Does that make sense to you? Because it doesn't to me! I... I cannot do that. I won't."
Wilbert studied her for a long moment. He saw the fire in her eyes, the same fire he'd probably had before he decided to hide under a mountain of flowers. He gave a slow, somber nod. "Fine," he whispered. "Then I will tell you everything I know. But mark my words, Sunshine Raine_ it is your funeral."
He began to pace the room, his voice becoming a low narration of a chilling nightmare. "The Xylas are like bad little kids that want what they want, and they won't take no for an answer. They don't want your land; they want your suffering.
