The Condemned knelt on the stone circle, his wrists bound behind him with leather cord. He was old鈥攐lder than anyone Solenne had ever prepared. His hair was white and thin, his face a map of wrinkles and old scars. But his eyes鈥� his eyes were bright. Blue as the sky before the Dimming. She had only seen that color in old paintings.
She stopped at the door.
鈥淣o,鈥� he said. 鈥淲e walk.鈥�