I found my way to my lodging in
a filthy _chak_ hostel, and threw myself down on the verminous bed.
Believe it or not, I slept.
CHAPTER TWELVE
An hour before dawn there was a noise in my room. I roused, my hand on
my skean. Someone or something was fumbling under the mattress where I
had thrust Evarin's bird. I struck out, encountered something warm and
breathing, and grappled with it in the darkness. A foul-smelling
something gripped over my mouth. I tore it away and struck hard with the
skean. There was a high shrilling. The gripping filth loosened and fell
away and something died on the floor.
I struck a light, retching in revulsion. It hadn't been human. There
wouldn't have been that much blood from a human. Not that color, either.
The _chak_ who ran the place came and gibbered at me. _Chaks_ have a
horror of blood and this one gave me to understand that my lease was up
then and there, no arguments, no refunds. He wouldn't even let me go
into his stone outbuilding to wash the foul stuff from my shirtcloak.
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