Reeling, Calder struggled to move. Blast, that’d been his good stool.
“Stop it.” Despite his head ringing, he heard Sorrell struggling with their attackers. A strike, a grunt, and Calder heard no more from the boy.
“Stop it.” Despite his head ringing, he heard Sorrell struggling with their attackers. A strike, a grunt, and Calder heard no more from the boy.
“What’s a sofa?” Calder shoved a stick into the fire scowling, hoping the man would not answer.
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