Malediction (Scars Of The Sundering Book 1) - Plot & Excerpts
Remove his muzzle." The guard removed the muzzle from Pancras's snout, shoved him into the room, and shut the door behind him. Pancras stumbled forward, tripping over his shackles, but managed to remain upright. Hand-cut rugs covered the floor in front of a crackling fireplace. Candles burned in sconces on the wall, casting scant light. A window on the far side of the room provided illumination from the rising sun, and Pancras smelled herbal incense smoldering. A small table sat in the center of the room, the sort of table at which two people would sit to share a drink and conversation. A man sat at a writing desk, scribbling something onto parchment. He set down his quill and arched his back, working out the kinks in his knotted up muscles. He turned and regarded Pancras. From his gold-trimmed purple robes, Pancras assumed he was someone of authority in Almeria. The robes were not unlike those Pancras favored, and he appreciated the human's fashion sense. "Ah, the minotaur." He stood and bowed.
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