I didn't give him a clear answer. There were several things to be skeptical about, of course, but none of them mattered as much as what Ysor herself wanted. I needed to speak with her myself, and I needed to study this settlement for anything suspicious before I committed to a single word.
I had plenty of questions I wished this Marcel would comply with answering. But I also didn't want to ask them. Every question I posed gave him something to work with, a thread of intention he could pull on, and I wasn't ready to offer that. Not until I'd had the conversation with Ysor.
While I was thinking about this, a loud bell suddenly began to ring. It was a slow, heavy sound, each beat drawn out and echoing off the stone walls of the valley. The reason became clear when I looked toward the source: it was only a salvaged half of a gigantic bell, mounted on one of the valley ridges, and about five people were shoving a log of wood toward it in practiced rhythm.
