by Unknown
Aeventius, a frown on his bruised face, toed a smoldering book across the cobbles. “Well, this is depressing. Please tell me you grabbed a few volumes before blowing that alchemist’s house to pieces.”
I felt sick, unsteady, the ordeal with the Shining Child having sapped my strength more thoroughly than even the hornet swarm. Hopeful looters still filled the streets, though they had moved well back of the burning house. I wobbled over to Kostin where he stood with his head down, gazing hopelessly at the lump ofhard ash in his hand-all that was left ofthe scepter he had been sent to steal.
“Let’s go,” I said to him, slipping a hand into his. “Tomorrow is another story.”
The street was littered with scorched treasures as we made our way out of Rot Gut, but not one of us bothered to pick them up.
