From the front seat, the D’dôdôSette clambered upright and turned to Oscar and Vaasi-Vee in the rear. “What did you do back there, Dooven?” he said, between gasps for air.
Oscar ignored him, more concerned about not dying than explaining fluff grenades.
“I’ve had bunions that hurt more than their punches!” the D’dôdô-Sette said. “And I’ve battled waterfalls less wet!” He punched his paws as proof and winked at Vaasi-Vee. “Four of them, I dealt with! Four! They won’t forget that bollocking in a hurry, I can assure you!”
Oscar watched their wake. The Dark Alchemists had commandeered the next taxi in line, dragged driver and occupant from it and thrown both onto the pavement. After cramming into it, the thing lurched from the kerb and screamed after them.
“I don’t think it’s over yet,” Os
