Huh. Samuel's on 'bout some things I ain't following the particulars of, though if it boils down to not that hot, several times over guess I c'n follow it. Copy down what he's sayin' for Mab, though, holdin' my hat over the page in my off hand ta keep it dry. Way he's describin' it...
God pounds his nails. Fer a second I imagine what that'd look like, an' I look around in the rain and shiver.
"Well, look, see'ere, where th'grass ain't scorched'n th'middle? 'at feels t'me like a circle'a protection. Annat ain't 'n amateur's trick. A real bloody amateur woulda gotten'emselves broiled 'long wit' th'trees. So somebody here knows t'protect'erself, but can't control 'er own powers. I don't rightly get't, t'be honest."
"Maybe..." Think about it a sec an' shake my head. "Could she be used ta the protectin', and just started flailin' round for the rest? Like used ta usin' a shield, an' then tryna beat someone over the head with it?"
An' then Samuel finds blood, an' aw hell. Close my eyes a second. Miss Noma goes and kneels down.
"You sure it's from the same time?" I say. Mean, bin more'n a day. Can see one person comin' out ta look, another showin' up and bad luck says the two have some kinda grudge goin'...
"'scuse me. I gotta find someone who oughta be dead an' kick'm square'n th'balls."
Gotta say I was not expectin' that.
"Miss Thorn?" I say carefully. "Ah-- mean, could you--" And then it dawns on me, cold and clear and awful, who oughtta be dead and could maybe get that kinda reaction. Can feel the candle buckle and flare inside me, and put one hand up as if I were tryna shade my eyes. Just workin' on keepin' the rain outta them.
"C'n I help you with the finding?" is what I settle on. Because Christ damn well knows that if Donner is around I'd like to know soon as I can and get him caught quicker than that.
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God pounds his nails. Fer a second I imagine what that'd look like, an' I look around in the rain and shiver.
"Pretty clear't wuzza blast'a power. Likely fire. But't don't feel like anythin't wuz meant, if'n y'get m'meanin'. Feels like... Feels like'n amateur. But not total, annat's what's buggin' me," Thorn says.
"Well, look, see'ere, where th'grass ain't scorched'n th'middle? 'at feels t'me like a circle'a protection. Annat ain't 'n amateur's trick. A real bloody amateur woulda gotten'emselves broiled 'long wit' th'trees. So somebody here knows t'protect'erself, but can't control 'er own powers. I don't rightly get't, t'be honest."
"Maybe..." Think about it a sec an' shake my head. "Could she be used ta the protectin', and just started flailin' round for the rest? Like used ta usin' a shield, an' then tryna beat someone over the head with it?"
An' then Samuel finds blood, an' aw hell. Close my eyes a second. Miss Noma goes and kneels down.
"You sure it's from the same time?" I say. Mean, bin more'n a day. Can see one person comin' out ta look, another showin' up and bad luck says the two have some kinda grudge goin'...
"'scuse me. I gotta find someone who oughta be dead an' kick'm square'n th'balls."
Gotta say I was not expectin' that.
"Miss Thorn?" I say carefully. "Ah-- mean, could you--" And then it dawns on me, cold and clear and awful, who oughtta be dead and could maybe get that kinda reaction. Can feel the candle buckle and flare inside me, and put one hand up as if I were tryna shade my eyes. Just workin' on keepin' the rain outta them.
"C'n I help you with the finding?" is what I settle on. Because Christ damn well knows that if Donner is around I'd like to know soon as I can and get him caught quicker than that.