Seven makes it up
Lar lifted his head and peered out between his knees. “What are you looking at so hard there, Six?”
“I think I saw a fish.”
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Belsar finds the important thing
Belsar stopped and wagged his tail hopefully. The elf was coming from the direction in which the source of the odor presently seemed to lie. Perhaps he would know.
“What have you seen?” Belsar asked.
Flann does not hear
“Flann!” His gaze roamed quickly over her face, her shoulders, and all of her. He seemed startled, and even a little confused.
Flann did not find this charming in the least. “Most men agree I’m not as fair as my sister,” she said coldly.
Flann does not admit
“Come—in!” Flann’s cry of annoyance came out as something of a sob.
Osh entered, clucking his tongue rapidly as he did at chicks and kittens and small creatures in general. “What is this, pretty lady? Already you think you are too old for naptime?”
Foras takes a message
Foras fought with all his strength, but this call was stronger than the call of any earth-dwelling creature he had ever known. Still, he felt no ward clamping over him—he would be free to slaughter the fool who had summoned him just as soon as he could see him.
Lar counts to three
Lar kneeled beside the boy and nudged him with the back of his hand. His head rocked limply, but his body still held the spring and warmth of life.
“How long were you down there for, pip?” Lar asked him awkwardly. “How did you get down there anyway? We just found those tunnels today.”
Lar counts to seventeen
Seventeen. There were seventeen tiles between Lar’s foot and the door. Seventeen gilded leaves on the panel behind Imin’s head. Even his heart seemed to be measuring its beats in groups of seventeen. Lar was counting.
Imin suddenly slid down in his chair and lolled his tongue out of the side of his mouth. “I think someone forgot to tell Lar to exhale,” he slurred.
Cat reveals a clue
“Ach! Where have you been hiding?” Cat smiled. “I was about to wonder whether you were even here.”
She sat amidst a pile of ruffled gray linen, with a piece of darker gray fabric stretched on the embroidery hoop in her lap. Gray and gray and gray.
Aelfden is subtly accused
There came a knock unlike the meek tapping of a monk. Aelfden was not sorry to be interrupted, for his morning had seemed strangely empty with only abbey business to fill it. He even smiled slightly in anticipatory indulgence: he supposed he knew who it was.
“Enter!” he called. He had guessed correctly. “Ah! Good morning, young man. I am sorry I was not able to meet you last night.”
Alred’s joke is on himself
Gwynn dug a canal from the center of her mashed turnips and then fought vainly against the flow of pale gravy that trickled out onto the plate. Playing with one’s food was a childish pastime, she knew, but she thought she might as well act like a child if she was to be treated like one.
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“It’s not gibberish, it’s Gaelic.”
“It sounds like Hundr when he gets a bone in his throat.”
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