naked, smear yourself with faeces and do the jolly Omen mating dance?’ He paused, tapped his cheek thoughtfully. ‘That might work.’
‘Hm . . . I’m not sure,’ the boy replied, oblivious. ‘I might be able to do something about it, though. They’re scavengers, right? Gluttons?’ At a nod from Greenhair, he glanced out to sea. ‘So, if they are anything like watchdogs, they’re probably attracted to blood. In that case, all we need to do is turn the water from blue to red.’
‘Oh, is that all?’ Denaos sneered.
‘It’s not too difficult. In fact, with a glamer, it should be rather easy . . . in theory.’
‘Nothing with magic is ever easy, in theory or in practice, ’ Denaos replied. ‘And what in Silf ’s name is a . . . glamer, anyway?’
‘Glamer,’ Dreadaeleon said, ‘from the word “glimmer”. It’s just a small spectromancy spell, one of the lesser schools. It works on the theory of bending light to produce an image.’ He held up a finger. ‘To wit.’
His hand danced in front of his face for a moment, a brief murmur expulsed from his lips. His skin shimmered, blinked, then distorted and when he turned back to the companions, he had full lips, long eyelashes and delicate angles. He batted his eyes and gave a demure giggle.
‘Just like that,’ his voice was a sharp contrast to his new face, ‘except on a larger, more distant scale.’
‘That’s . . . actually not a bad idea.’ Lenk nodded appreciatively. After an unbearably long moment, he coughed. ‘So, uh, are you going to stay that way or . . .’
‘Oh, right.’ The boy waved a hand and returned his face to his own with another, equally feminine giggle. ‘Well, I would just lose my own face if it weren’t laced on.’
‘Right . . . anyway, never say or do anything you did in the last few breaths ever again.’
‘We don’t need magic,’ Gariath growled suddenly. ‘We don’t need cowards, either.’ He thumped a fist against his chest. ‘We go in. We kill them as they come. We get the stupid book.’
‘It’s all so easy.’ Asper rolled her eyes. ‘If we conveniently go insane and forget the fact there are Gods know how many frogmen and Abysmyths in there. Factoring in the Deepshriek, I’d love to believe that we could make it in, I really would, but I doubt it.’ The waves receded, exposing the decaying buffet of flesh. ‘I severely doubt it.’
‘But it is not impossible,’ Greenhair protested. ‘I have heard the lorekeeper. He has told me much of what you have faced and fought before! He has told me the bravery of adventurers.’
‘He lied,’ Denaos spat. ‘Practicality dictates adventure, not bravery. Besides,’ he sniffed, ‘you’re not the one to risk your head getting eaten.’
‘Don’t disrespect her,’ Dreadaeleon snapped. ‘She can help us.’
‘With what? Singing lessons? Unless she can hold you down while I pound sense into your pudgy head, she’s useless to us.’
‘My head isn’t pudgy.’ The boy’s eyes flashed. ‘But my brain . . . is HUGE!’
‘Big enough to come up with a better idea?’
Lenk glanced at the rogue. ‘Can you?’
‘As a matter of fact, I can.’ Denaos puffed up, ready to explode with self-satisfaction. ‘As much as I’d love to recommend running away, I do like getting paid. Obviously, though, charging into a tower that is both ready to collapse and brimming with demons isn’t a good idea in any language.’ He shrugged. ‘So, why not just wait?’
‘Wait.’
‘Wait.’ He nodded. ‘They’ll come out, eventually, to do what demons do. Or we lure them out. Either way, we ambush them, take the book and then run away.’
‘That’s . . . not completely bad,’ Asper conceded. ‘They can’t stay in there for ever, can they? If they plan to do something with the tome, they’ll likely bring it out eventually. ’
‘I suppose that passes for genius amongst humans,’ Kataria sneered. ‘Leave the book in the hands of demons and wait to see what they do with it? You stupid monkey.’
‘And how do you plan to saunter your mighty shicty self in?’ Asper snapped back. ‘Are you going to swim in and hope they think your huge ears jutting from the waters are just a white fish with two fins?’
‘Miron,’ she poked the priestess hard, ‘your almighty lord and master, said himself that we can’t leave the tome in their hands.’ Her ears twitched threateningly. ‘And, frankly, your ear-envy is just sickening.’
‘EAR-envy?’
‘Miron isn’t the one risking everything.’ Denaos stepped up beside the priestess.
‘And