Page 183 of A Sanctuary from Shadow
This amused some of the Ogres, and what a daunting symphony that created.
“Here, now that should suffice.” Sedge meant it would—or else.
Even being one of the most feared monsters in pop culture on Earth, could Sedge, a puppy compared to the Ogres, really intimidate them?
The Ogre took his time deciding but then groused, “Fine, fine, you pale devil. Put those fangs away.”
“Of course,” Sedge agreed with all cordiality. “As you’ve been so amenable.”
The Ogre sniffed. “Be gone with you.” He lumbered away, jolting our wagon.
“Hi-ho!” Sedge spurred Bob into motion.
Our wheels rolled over the smooth, stone bridge, progressing in a wavy line to avoid torchlight. I held my breath. Waiting. Dreading. Preparing. Pete seemed to be doing likewise; I hadn’t felt him breathe since we’d passed the Ogres.
The wagon halted abruptly, Bob braying like a bullhorn, his hooves clattering as if he’d reared up on his hind legs.
“Bullocks!” Sedge exclaimed, Bob still beside himself.
Pete held me closer, doubtless smelling my fear. Lord, I hoped the other harbingers wouldn’t detect our scent. Maybe Kit’s doggy stench disguised it.
“What in bloody hell do you two mean by jumping out of the bushes like that?” Sedge snapped. “Just about pounced on you, I did! Would’ve torn out your bloody worthless throats!”
“Such vitriol, Sedge,” one of the ambushers responded, slick as oil. “Is that any way to greet your mates?”
“Mates, is it? Last I heard, Pecks, you were defaming my good name about the barracks, whining of how I stole your last bounty, when you know fine and well that ordination was mine.”
“It was my turn, Sedge,” Pecks replied. “If you people would follow any sort of decorum—”
“I don’t have clout enough with the Shadow Prince to pick and choose ordinations, you lout. They’re sent to me as he sees fit, and I complete them as he sees fit, or it’s another bloody whipping. That’s the decorummy peoplefollow.”
“You ken well it’s unwritten custom to trade ordinations when—”
“Enough,” the second ambusher barked. “Sedge, tell us where McKenna is, and we’ll happily let you pass.”
“McKenna? Haven’t seen him in weeks.” He sighed. “What hijinks is the damn fool up to now?” His exasperation sounded genuine, and I sensed an eye roll behind me.
“He’s in the lurch,” the second ambusher said. “With something he can’t handle, it seems.” Me and my cyclonic powers, I presumed. “We’ve dispatched ourselves to aid his plight. To lift his load, so to speak.”
How kind?I sneered into darkness.
“Mm,” Sedge grunted.
“Just tell us where he is.” Pecks’s silky malice evoked images of all our deaths.
The breeze kicked up outside our cocoon, and I hoped the ambushers were too dense to realize their coveted zephyrist was in Sedge’s wagon, losing control.
Pete shook me, unable to scold me.
“As I said,” Sedge returned, unperturbed. “Haven’t seen him.”
Several agonizing moments passed before the second ambusher spat what sounded like a loogie. “Rare, isn’t it, Sedge, for you to travel with a cart and mule.”
My blood curdled.Shit!
Pete shared the sentiment, muttering in my hair.
“It’s normally just you and your mongrel.”
