A voice sounded out from the roof of Mara and Dixon’s cabin. “Varm and Yokel are dead.”
Kader stared at Broden, his eyes hard, merciless. “Whatta the others?” he called out.
“All ’counted fer,” came a voice from out of the dark.
“Ya been through every buildin’?”
“Every one of ’em. ’Ere’s no sign of any twins.”
Kader’s eyes never left Broden. “So, ya tol’ the truth. ’Bout the twins anyway.”
“Let her go. Take me.”
“Put yer ’ands up where we can see ’em.”
Broden did as bidden.
Kader tilted his head, as he eyed a weapon hanging from the young man’s side. “Adish, come dow’ an’ check out—Broden ’ere—fer more weapons. An’ bring me ’is sword.”
“Sword!” Lucy whispered, glancing at Broden’s side. That’s when she saw it—the weapon she’d cleaned earlier, the weapon that had been sitting on the table just inside the cabin where she’d stood moments ago, the weapon she’d left out, intending to return it to its hiding place first thing in the morning.
Oh, great Ehyeh, he’s got the great sword.
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