‘Careful, brave masters!’ he called out breathlessly. ‘Not so fast, brave mistress!’ They emerged from the trees onto a track – flattened and hardened by the passing of countless booted feet and wooden wheels – and there in front of them, like some magnificent jewel-encrusted tapestry, were the glades themselves. Rook’s pulse quickened as he looked round in wonder. In the moonlight, the diverse dwelling places of the numerous Free Glade denizens were picked out in luminous silver and long, sharp shadows. The three apprentices stopped and stared. The air was filled with smells and sounds. The tang of leather, the odour of stale beer, the aromatic scent of spices and herbs. And Rook could hear the buzz of distant voices – joyful voices, and singing and laughter. Hekkle bustled up behind them and tried to catch his breath. The feathers on his neck stood up in a ragged ruff and his thin pointed beak quivered. ‘Over there, that’s where the webfoot goblins live.’ He nodded towards a group of huts floating on shimmering marshland to their left.
What do You think about The Last Of The Sky Pirates?
