o still be young, and pulled up off of their necks. They're dust-stained and rumpled from travel, and Selmas groans when he sees them. T
l to ever have a hope of conquering the Alyrisin and taking the Bloodstone, but the
, but the way they call out to him makes his bl
e front of the group c
goes up to the fro
Wisterin asks. "It's not good business
orders to fil
lls him. "I need some flying needles. The t
a name that is passed around through the area for a while, however, because while he isn't very good at hand-to-hand combat, he's good with poisons, which is where the flyiay of fighting, i
ke those," h
front of his tunic and comes out with a thin, silver needle that glints in
le. "No. I don't need to.
o that it's pointed at the space between Sel
d don't even get close until they're already dead. Frankl
ou're not a Warrior. I could take
tle," Selmas says, crossing his arms. "Your clan is
ils flare. "Wh
are you doing?
and her expression murderous. She's bruised across the bridge of her nose, and has a bandage tied around h
suddenly sweet. Selmas looks at hi
im flatly. "I kill
th vindictive pleasure that there's some
fingers to Selmas in his apron. "Get your o
s come out crooked. I need preci
im. "Maybe you'll learn to fi
neasily. "That's
," Gwynfor says
out, no matter who you are. The Wiste
ides, you were here for grain reports, not weaponry. You'v
quickly stowes it. "I don't want to disturb our families' agreement, Gwynfor. I'll see you in
he group strolls away from the shop, dow
handled,"
t," Gwynfor sa
ot use
of paper. "You're a weaponsmith. Here's all the
king the paper from her and looking it ove
n two," Gwynfor s
ounter to catch Gwynfor as she turns to walk away. "W
t thing he knows, he's pinned up against the shop wall, ar
bout," Gwynfor growls at him. "So if I find out you've said a
s yelps. "I won'
k a bit more to make sure her point
"But they're coming to t
away, almost bumping into Byrin as he rounds
" he says. "B
r igno
o the counter. "I broke these." He frowns. "Well, n
utters, still frowning after Gwynfor in confusion. "Do yo
are coming to
st Hund
into something uncomfor
decides that most of them are beyond repair, and tosses them to the side. H
He punches Selmas' upper arm playfully. "And after this year, yo
s. "We don'
one has to accept you this time. Otherwise
tupid to give up," Selmas mutters. "I don't th
is, it's going to make yo
oken spear. "I ho
ch still feels hollow and empty, a forebodi