Chapter Twelve
-
Answers“Oh, for God's sake, Jean, let her go,” Merryweather mewled.
“I think not,” I said, nodding to the resurgent archers who'd materialised like blue and yellow ghosts on the balcony. The Baltic Guard were famed for their marksmanship even if they'd not needed it in an age.
“Just let her go.”
“I will not. Not until I hear what I wish to hear.”
“And what is that, youngling?” Duke Gorgon rose to his feet with a most unusual calm. A man of renowned impatience, one prone to violent outbursts, his whole demeanour had been out of character and I expected it to return at any moment.
“How you know what you do?” I replied with unwavering determination.
Gorgon gave Grella a look; he shrugged a reply.
For those few seconds that lasted an eternity, I suspected all those
