“Are they still shouting at each other?”
Caitlin glanced back, and shrugged. “Well, she hasn’t thrown him overboard yet. What in god’s name is Troy doing?”
“Whatever it is, something this big, I don’t imagine there’s much damage he can do.”
“Even if it involves matches?”
—
“Ow!” Feid put his hand to his cheek, and the world came back into focus. He was sitting on the wooden deck, legs splayed, Caitlin half-kneeling in front of him.
“Sorry.” She eased back, and sat down next to him, cross-legged. “It always works in the movies, and you looked like you were about to go critical.”
—
“The Prof was telling the truth,” Caitlin said. “Seems he’s only mad north by north-west. When the wind is southerly, he knows a rebel from a bounty hunter.”
—
“Think a horse crossed with a whale, and a temperamental one at that,” the Professor piped up, at his elbow.
Feid looked down, and saw that the small man was grinning from ear to ear, eyes squinted almost shut, nose into the still air.
“Fine day, fine day. Too bad it wants to kill us.”
—
