A hunched, catlike shoulder twisted; a
sinuous neck, a high-held head that was not quite human.
"Evarin!" I swore. "That does it. He knows now that I'm not Rakhal, if
he didn't know it all along! Come on, girl, we're getting out of here!"
This time there was no pretense of normality as we dashed through the
workroom. Fingers dropped from half-completed Toys as they stared after
us. _Toys!_ I wanted to stop and smash them all. But if we hurried, we
might find Rakhal. And, with luck, we would find Evarin with him.
And then I was going to bang their heads together. I'd reached a
saturation point on adventure. I'd had all I wanted. I realized that I'd
been up all night, that I was exhausted. I wanted to murder and smash,
and wanted to fall down somewhere and go to sleep, all at once. We
banged the workroom door shut and I took time to shove a heavy divan
against it, blockading it.
Miellyn stared. "The Little Ones would not harm me," she began. "I am
sacrosanct."
I wasn't sure. I had a notion her status had changed plenty, beginning
when I saw her chained and drugged, and standing under the hovering
horror.
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