‘It is connected. All intelligence will form a picture that Torrullin will use to pin-point an entrance time.’
Silence.
‘Saska?’
She sighed. ‘It just occurred to me how easy it would be for the two of them to stay lost out there.’
‘No. Torrullin has made promises he intends to keep. He’ll be back.’
‘Then I wish she stays lost,’ Saska muttered. She threw her hands in the air in horror. ‘Ignore that. He’ll never return to me if she stays lost…and I don’t wish such a fate on her.’
They walked on in silence.
Eventually they entered a chamber that had the look of a farmhouse kitchen, one used frequently by the aromas. A big central workspace held dishes and fresh vegetables. A woodstove further back had a boiling pot of something extraordinarily aromatic- a meat stew of some kind, said Declan’s nose, and his stomach rumbled. Copper pots and pans hung from hooks, as did bundles of herbs. A large basin and counter contained all manner of clean crockery and cutlery. It was a working kitchen, and welcomed him like a prodigal son.
Saska grinned at his expression. ‘Caballa’s special and there’s bound to be enough.’
‘Thank you, Lady Goddess,’ Declan said fervently.
‘She’s probably through there.’ Saska pointed out a sunny herb garden beyond the kitchen and beyond that a sitting room beckoned with comfort.
Declan frowned, squinting. ‘I thought it was just the two of you.’ He could see far more than one form moving in the sitting room.
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