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«I see. And the evidence?»
«And who needs them? Those mothers whose sons and daughters have been kidnapped by these monsters? They already know. And they got their retribution. However,» the mage gritted his teeth, «there is something. The Protector should have enough…»
The sheriff followed Wolfe’s gaze with his eyes.
On an antique dresser was a basket full of pies. Some of the cakes were broken, and he could make out the gruesome stuffing – the baby’s severed fingers. Nearby lay a tattered cotton cap, scarlet as the dawn.
Orange
«We’re screwed,» Gafarro lowered the spyglass and shook his head hopelessly.
Down below the castle walls, it was quiet now: his army had managed to beat off two attacks with almost no casualties. The attackers had not yet been able to get within a hundred yards of the moat surrounding the citadel, and each time they retreated. Now they were preparing to lay out one last trump card. And what one!
«No, sorcerer, not even you can handle it,» he glanced sadly at his advisor, who was looking around. «My kingdom will not stand. Where did they find him from? I thought they’d all been wiped out long ago, and here we are.»