21Waiting for the Beast“Fire’s out!”
Soren opened an eye and wiped a small trail of saliva from the corner of his mouth. He’d slept the uncomfortable sleep of a semi-drunk man slung across two easy chairs.
Conn dropped the logs beside the fireplace with a clatter that left Soren wincing, then eased himself up straight. Soren had no doubt his body was still decorated with the black and blue boot prints of the guards from the border crossing.
“You could have used the guest room,” Conn said without turning. He bent again, slowly, and proceeded to rake together the embers from the night before. When he was done, and they glowed red with promise, he set bits of twisted paper on top of them.
Soren grunted and watched as they smoldered before bursting into a tiny lick of flame.
Conn added mo
