Teri McLaren
snorted until the hapless crab was evicted, then sat back down to think about all of the ways he could kill Riolla and get away with it. The sun was going down, and the waves on the Silver Sea had quieted to gentle swells.
"By Nin's empty glass, I must have been here all day," Saelin muttered aloud, taking another swipe at the curious crabs, who had ventured forth sideways from their holes once it seemed safe again. They instantly pulled back into their small dark tunnels, brandishing their blue-and-red claws behind them. But Saelin could still see their little gleaming blue eyes, held high on stalks above their heads. "Stay there, or I'll have you all for dinner!" he threatened.
Instantly, his stomach reminded him that he had not eaten since yesterday. Time to try for the other shore, before he was stuck here all night with the sea fog cold and wet upon him. His outer robes were long gone, shucked against the deadly pull of the cauldron. If he stayed here, he knew he would freeze to death. He looked at the beach and the water between. There was nothing for it.
Saelin removed his short tunic, wound it into a tight ball, and slung it around one shoulder and onto his bare back in hopes of reducing the drag of the water as he swam. He gritted his teeth, smoothed his dark mustache, and dove into the cold sea, thinking about the little music box he had found and left in the sedan chair, wondering if it had survived Riolla's crossing.
Visions of how much kohli it would bring again filled his head: how he would spend it raqa bars, recounting for his guild members how he had never yet lost a single head he'd been sent for. The memory of Cheyne's incredible escape from their first encounter burned in his mind with each stroke toward the shore. And that woman's combs! His freshly opened cuts stung with the salty water. They would probably scar his handsome face… He would bring those combs back as a trophy-perhaps he would even