Mar sighed to himself. He was certainly mentally exhausted, but his mind was too busy to allow him sleep. He began to wonder how Moraine was able to doze peacefully. But as his eyes turned to look at her bed, he heard her moan softly. She began to whine as Mar watched, unable to help... though he knew she would not want his help.
He laid on his back and allowed his mind to wander. A cold breeze was descending from upstairs, but Mar's blanket was sufficient to keep him warm. He had hoped he could sleep, but somehow he had a hunch that he wouldn't. He felt guilt, certainly. Was it his fault that Cyiet and Gelae were dead? Perhaps he should ask Gorian that.
Gorian must still be awake, he thought. By now, Mar wanted nothing to do with vamps and he was sure Gorian thought the same way. For some strange reason home was on his mind at the moment. No longer did he yearn for the days of Yrdnal. He wanted to go home to Meovanni.
And for what price did everyone have to pay for him to reach that conclusion? Mar believed everyone when they said that it was the vamps who destroyed his village. But he knew now that that was not true. He saw real vamps, spoke to them... they were not the shadows he saw that day years ago, while he was playing hide-and-seek with...
With ...
Mar's eyes narrowed. He had forgotten him once before, how could he forget him again? After all, it was his friend that set Moraine and himself free. Mar's eyes closed as he tried to picture his friend's face.. but he could not.
He had something else to keep him awake now.