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Chapter thirteen
Chapter thirteenI, Dray Prescot, for the moment passing as Nath the Hammer, said nothing. What could I say? Nothing! Rather, by all the crawling bugs on the slimy hide of Makki Grodno, there was so much I could say that I was like to burst from not saying it. Ahrinye had set the mission. We were well on the way to accomplishing the most tricky part. Darham was perfectly correct. In this Shank airboat we could fly to the coast, ascertain in which direction lay our proper course, gather supplies, and fly home. And now some confounded san or other, so dear to the heart of this little spirited lady, required to be saved first. Jeehum! But, and mark my words O ye of little faith in the workings of the worlds, there was more, much more. She sat there along the bench, her mouth, dark in the
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