A Gathering of Stones (Drinker of Souls Book 3) by Jo Clayton

By Jo Clayton

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In the bed. Resting. ” Maksim’s lips twitched, the beginnings of a smile. ” “Surprised? ” The word was drawn out and ended in a chuckle. “Seriously, Thornlet, how quiet do you want to keep this? If I start operating around here, there’ll be notice taken. Official notice. ” “Security, Brann. Kukurul’s boast. ,, “Use your head. ” He closed his eyes and looked wary. ” She flipped a hand in an impatient gesture. “Can you work here? ” “Words are my tools, all I need,” he said. “Little Danny Blue explained that, remember?

1 Settsimaksimin yawned. He felt drained. It was brushing against the trap in the cave that did it, he thought. The block. Fool woman, lack-brained looby, ahhh, Thornlet, that thing is dangerous.

The wet stole, heat and energy from him. He was prowling about, rubbing his sides against any boulders tall enough to allow this, impatient to get away. In the fog and the cold and the dark, Jaril whining behind her somewhere, Brann began to wonder if Maksim had changed his mind again. She eased the straps of her rucksack; though the leather was padded, they were cutting into her shoulders. Soft, she thought, but I’ll harden with time and doing. She looked at her hands. They glowed palely in the dense dark, milkglass flesh with bone shadows running through it.

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