Ascendants of Ancients Sovereign - By Phillip Jones Page 0,41

starving. I’m not going anywhere else in my PJs, nor am I going on an empty stomach. After all, a woman needs to look her best when leaving home, and I’d say this definitely qualifies as leaving home.”

She pulled at the hem of her pajama top. “Please tell me you have something else for us to wear. Mine best be cute. They could’ve at least grabbed my wardrobe when they snatched me up.” Shalee frowned. “I don’t take kindly to being taken away from my life ... especially my closet.”

Shalee lifted her new staff, twirled it above her head, and continued, “Hey! And another thing. How do I make this staff thingy whip up something fab? Will I be able to turn a prince into a frog and stuff like that?”

Mosley waited for Shalee to stop kidding around, and then he directed his attention to Sam. He was comforted, knowing these were questions he could answer. “I have the knowledge to answer your inquisitions. The gods have left suitable attire for you inside the temple. Shalee, I have no idea what you consider fab. If you don’t like what has been provided, you’ll need to speak with Bassorine.”

Shalee smiled and tapped the butt of her staff on the ground. “Don’t you worry about that, once I figure out how to zap him good with this thing, I’ll get his fashion sense up to speed.”

The wolf laughed. “The gods will seal the temple to visitors once you’ve changed. They won’t want the inhabitants of Grayham knowing about the crystal’s disappearance.”

Mosley continued to answer their questions. “Your second question was how many Peaks will it take to get to Brandor. If we travel by paw, it is a 56 Peak journey. Your final answer is—”

Shalee interrupted, snapping, “Didn’t he just say, from one Peak to the next is a day?” She looked at Sam for the answer.

Seeing her expression was a mix of anger and disbelief, the wolf’s enthusiasm to answer their questions dwindled.

Sam responded, “He did. Why?”

Shalee turned and gave Mosley a look. “You listen to me, you big overgrown puppy. If you think for one minute that I’m going to walk 56 days to get to this Brandor place, you’re crazy. I’m no Joan of Arc, and I’m definitely not a Mormon pioneer. I don’t even own a wagon.”

She continued to vent. “Who does this shaggy mutt think I am anyway, the Crocodile Hunter’s wife? For heaven’s sake! There better be another way to get there. And where would we sleep tonight? I’m not about to wear these PJs two nights in a row. That’s just wrong. They look terrible. Look at all the burn marks.”

She poked her finger through a few of the holes left behind by the lightning. “I don’t have money on me. This is nuts.” Looking back at Mosley, a new thought blurted out. “I just got a pedicure, and my nails are looking delicious. I don’t even have my hairbrush. How can you possibly expect me to deal with all of this without my brush? You’re lucky I don’t have a rolled up newspaper.”

Sam found Mosley’s wide eyes. He could see the wolf was confused. He ignored Shalee and attempted to whisper into their furry guide’s ear. “Just disregard her for now.”

Hearing the comment, Shalee blew up. “Disregard me? Who do you think you are, buddy? Who died and made you a king?”

Sam held Mosley’s gaze. “Like I said, just ignore her.” As he continued to speak, Sam could feel Shalee’s glare stabbing him in the back.

Mosley decided to play along. He winked at Sam in his own wolfish way and then turned to Shalee. “I said it was a 56 Peak walk, but I said nothing about sleeping. It will take twice as long to get there if we waste the moments necessary to rest. Did you expect us to stop? I can make the journey straight through.”

It was clear by Shalee’s response that she failed to recognize the wolf’s chiding. “Oh, for all the angels in Heaven!” she shouted. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” She flopped down on the wooden platform and started to cry.

“I said I wanted an adventure, not blisters. I don’t have any suntan lotion for a trip like this, and I burn easy. I don’t have my makeup. I don’t have deodorant. I don’t have perfume. I don’t even have any clean panties. For Pete’s sake, I hate this place. I swear I’ll never wish again. Yep, oh