Chapter Eighteen“Well, what shall we do now?” Wilf said from behind the copse of trees next to the sea.
“We wait,” Tamatan said. “I cannot sense Jake close by. That's not to say that he isn't, but we shouldn't do anything rash. Best to wait until the sun goes down. There may be lookouts posted.”
“Good point,” the old man replied, sliding down the nearest trunk before lighting his pipe. He let the aroma fill his lungs, blowing it out as he rubbed at his beard. He looked across at Emma, who was arching her back. “How are you?”
“Well, my legs have never been this hairy, my roots must be coming through and I'd kill for a hot shower and a glass of red. But apart from that, I'm in pretty good shape, better than I thought I would be after a month in a strange world.”
“You have an inner-streng
