“Ah, ah! Here he comes. You see now, Eska? You didn’t hit him so hard after all. Our sleeper has awakened.”
I blinked, clearing my eyes, as the room swam into focus: as the floating spheres of light resolved into candle flames and the hovering pink blur became a face, which smiled—patiently, fatherly. Elusively, like a wolf.
“Welcome to the Roc’s Nest,” said the face—its skin cracked like bleached leather, its teeth straight and white. “Please, have a look around. I’m Gavin Carter. And this—this here is Eska. My adopted daughter.”
I looked at her even as I became aware of my pounding head: at her strange, harsh face and dense, un-manicured brows; her large, stout teeth—which were not straight and white—her eyes like chiseled obsidian.
“Go on, Eska,” said the man—Carter—who appeared to
