“We can stay,” he said, putting that first because he knew nothing else he said would leave a mark on my brain until that part had been laid to rest. “Lord Ferdigan was very keen to send you home, on the grounds that it’s all well and good for me to risk my neck, but not so acceptable for you.” “As if I have not risked my neck without his permission on many occasions,” I said with a sniff. “That is excellent news—but you have the look of a man who has not said everything yet.” “Indeed.” Tom dropped wearily into his office chair; his had been a strenuous journey, with no time wasted. The chair creaked in protest at this treatment. “The bad news is that we won’t have any additional funding, and may even lose some.” Lose some? I dreaded to think where cuts might be made. Feed? Labour? We had our premises from the caliph; I had no idea whether we were paying rent to him or the local emir for the privilege, but surely relocating us would be even more expensive.
What do You think about In The Labyrinth Of Drakes?
