23
We all stood in silence for a moment, waiting to see what Eric would do.
“A toll?” he asked calmly.
Part of me expected lightning bolts to shoot out of his hands, blasting our way to freedom.
“That’s right.” The man stepped forward, flashing the rot in his teeth.
“And that’s a new rule? I mean, I’ve never been asked to pay a toll before,” Eric said, “and I’ve come and gone from Beville many times.”
“New rule.” The man gave a gigantic grin. I wanted to look away, but there was something hypnotizing about the way he slowly drew forward. “Times change. Now you pay to cross.”
“Right then,” Eric said to the man before tossing over his shoulder, “Bryant, call our friend and let him know we’ll be a little late as we have to sort out this matter of a toll.”
“Phones don’t work down here.
