‘before which came insanity, excessive cursing and oversensitivity!’
‘Lies!’ he all but roared. With a shove, he pulled free from her, clambering to his feet as she did. ‘It hardly concerns anyone else, anyway. This is between me and her.’
‘Have you no respect for the dead?’ Asper protested, taking a wary step to intervene. ‘These men, who fought and died alongside you, are resting here and you have to bring another squabble into their midst for no reason?’
‘There’s plenty of reason,’ Lenk snarled. ‘These men are dead because of us.’
‘Why? Because you weren’t able to kill the thing that killed them?’ Kataria turned her nose up haughtily. ‘Accept your weakness and move on. There was nothing you could have done.’
‘I could have grabbed the book!’
‘You could have had your head smashed in and lost the book anyway. Then we’d be short a book and you.’
‘And what do you care about that? What is it you always say?’ He pulled his ears upwards in mockery of hers, his voice becoming a shrill imitation. ‘“The world can make more humans.” I’d have thought one more of us dying would make you happy.’
‘In hindsight, it would have, since I wouldn’t have to suffer your voice now!’ Her ears flattened against the side of her head in a menacing gesture. ‘And don’t even think to try to imitate me, even if you’ve got the height for it.’
It occurred to Asper at that moment, regarding them so curiously, that this was no ordinary fight. They had squab-bled before, as had all in their company, but never with such fervour. There was something animalistic between them, a frothing, snarling fury they had not deigned to show each other, or anyone else, before now. For that reason, she thought it wise to keep her distance.
Dreadaeleon, however, had never understood the difference between intellect and wisdom.
‘You’re disturbing everyone here, you know,’ he said, reaching out to place a hand on Lenk’s shoulder. ‘If you’d just—’
‘Back AWAY.’
Lenk seized the boy’s frail hand roughly, nearly crushing it with his fury-fuelled grip. He shoved Dreadaeleon off effortlessly, propelling his scrawny mass across the floor as though he were a stick wrapped in a dirty coat. And like a dirty coat, he twisted, stumbling across the floor, making a brief cry of surprise that was silenced the moment he came to a sudden halt.
Face-first against Asper’s robe-swaddled bosom.
He staggered back as though he had been punched in twelve places at the same time, sweat suddenly forming on his face in streaming sheets, hands held up as though he was facing some murderous wild beast. Given the red-faced, gaping-mouthed, narrow-eyed incredulous expression on the priestess’s face, he wagered it would be a reasonable reaction.
‘I-I’m truly sorry,’ he stammered, ‘but you must acknowledge that this was hardly my fault, you see—’
Her slap cut through the air deftly, stinging him across the cheek and sending a spray of anxious sweat into the air. He recoiled, touching the redder mark upon an already reddened face and regarded her with a shocked expression.
‘What’d you do that for? I was just telling you it was an accident!’
‘Accident or no, a lady is always entitled to deliver a slap for purposes of preserving her dignity.’ She flicked beads of moisture off her fingers. ‘Rules of etiquette.’
His finger was up and levelled at her in a single breath, an incomprehensible word shouted in another. A small spark of electricity danced down his arm and leapt from the tip, striking the priestess squarely in the chest. She trembled, letting out a shriek as it spread and ran the length of her body sending her hair on its ends and bathing her in the aroma of undercooked pork.
‘What was that for?’ she hissed through chattering teeth.
‘Spite,’ he replied, flicking sparks off his fingers.
‘How utterly typical,’ she growled, sweeping a scornful gaze across her companions. ‘You people feed off each other. When one of you acts like a vagrant, you all do.’
‘Yeah,’ Kataria grunted, ‘at least we involved you in the fighting. I don’t see Miron out here even talking to you, much less getting ready to jab your eyeballs out.’
‘Why, you pointy-eared little—’
The fight died suddenly as the lanterns swayed at a sudden impact. The companions froze, taking a collective hard swallow as they noted a large shadow looming out from the companionway leading to the ship’s hold. All looked up to see Gariath standing in the entry, surveying them through eyes glittering