Volfred and his plan aside, Hedwyn deserved a second chance. He had someone waiting for him above- he’d mentioned it offhandedly before, but the Reader hadn’t pushed the subject because she’d seen the way his eyes darkened, just a little, whenever the girl was referenced. Hedwyn hadn’t deserved to be tossed into the abyss, not for the crime of love. He’d even painstakingly stitched together a pair of earmuffs for Rukey when the incessant tolling of the Blackwagon’s bell had gotten on the cur’s nerves. He had spent an afternoon listening solemnly as Nae described her latest conversation with the Scribes. The Reader had seen him make Jodariel laugh. Hedwyn, perpetually bright even with all the shadows haunting their ragtag little gang. It had been Hedwyn who spent long hours testing new recipes, making the useless growth of the Downside edible, if not delicious. He had been too kind, too eager to help a crippled young scholar who had known too much and been unable to flee when the Commonwealth had come for her. For six grueling liberation rites, she toiled and planned and sent her friends away, back to the surface. The Reader did not hesitate to liberate her friends, to grant them the dubious freedom of the world above.
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