I blinked.
With the skills taught me by Deb-Lu I managed to fashion a gyp-face; but it stung like the devil, and I guessed the repeated knocks on the head had done me no good at all. I’d recover fully, thanks to the Sacred Pool of Baptism in far Aphrasöe, but right now I was still muzzy, not quite in command of myself, and feeling as though I’d been in a fight with a leem...
My head hanging, I watched dully as the guards, chuckling over their booty, left the cell. The door clanged.
There seemed little chance that this dungeon cell was in the Zhantil Palace. Probably Pando had set up his headquarters for his zhantil masks in a safe house in Port Marsilus. The quicker he got here the better, for I surmised his delay had been caused by the arrangements for this sort of exercise. The proble
