But on the third prime, water spurts from the mouth of the pump in a reddish rush and Blain sighs. “There you go,” he says. As Trin watches, the water begins to run clear. “It’s a little cold, I’d imagine. I see the gunners rolled in. Soap’s in the corner there.”
He points out a pumice soapstone and Trin reaches for it automatically. I see the gunners rolled in…so that’s what this is all about. Trin suspected as much. Next it’ll be mind that Gerrick, he’s a rover. Trin wants to say don’t bother, he’s heard the spiel from Aissa, but he can’t talk to Blain like that. Rubbing the harsh soap between his hands, Trin watches blue-brown lather rise up from the grease and oil on his skin and tries to think of nothing at all. Maybe Blain just wants to talk at him. If he doesn’t ask an outright que
