Page 30 - UnderEarth

mumbled. “But I have not brought my things...” Other than the clothes she wore, Storm had one change of clothing. As she considered her appearance, her face grew hot. Her tunic and trousers were made of coarse hempen cloth, patched and mended, faded with sun and sea spray. She had not given them a thought before now, but suddenly Storm imagined how she must look to Talon and his companions: a peasant
in shabby rags.
“No need, Honoured Storm. We will provide
everything you might wish. It will be our pleasure!”
“A private word with my niece, Talon, before you whisk her away!” Lake gave a grimace, which some might take for a smile, before grabbing her elbow and tugging her to one side. He glared over his shoulder at the nearest soldiers, and Talon, with an ironic smile, flicked his long
red nails. The guards retreated out of earshot.
“Blast the old octopus!” Lake growled, a low grumble of frustration. “He’ll try to dazzle you with riches and promises. Believe none of their words! Keep your wits about you, Niece, and meet me in the Merry Whale in a five-day when the sun is six hands risen above the sea. If you can’t get away that day, then you must come the next. Make any excuse you must, but meet me at the
tavern!”
Uncorrected Sample
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