don’t worry, Emma, we are coming soon

Emma’s been gone for at least a week, and we’re no closer to saving her than we were a few hours after I had to let go of Allaketo’s skyskipper in exhaustion. I wonder- no, wonder is too weak a word- I obsessively worry, is she okay? Is she putting up with the torture she’s undoubtedly receiving? Or are we making a fatal mistake in staying here and seeking help from others before we gather forces and storm the castle for her?
I lie here in a makeshift bed without her, conditions in this alcove with the twelve homeless people who so graciously accepted us at least slightly better than in the alleyways of the past few days. May and Constance are fast asleep, just like everybody else, but the burden of worry unfortunately keeps me awake, staring out at a foreign sky and wishing that I wasn’t so helpless…

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