Jasaan shook his head. He couldn’t help half a smile. ‘Skjorl brought the hill down on it.’ Had to rub it in, didn’t he?

‘Skjorl?’ She seemed surprised, if only for a moment. ‘He did that?’

‘He’s dead now.’ Jasaan searched the alchemist’s face. She didn’t seem much bothered. ‘Are you hurt?’

‘I’m weak. That’s all.’

He nodded and waited to be told what to do. While he was waiting, the alchemist curled up and went to sleep. After a bit, Jasaan did the same.

Вы читаете The Black Mausoleum
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