Chapter 59

The trouble with finding the boy was the amount of cells in the dungeons. Door upon door, all locked with no keys. And there were dogs. Vicious, ravenous dogs, with teeth that made Dug's look safe. Dogs that made Dug look friendly. He could run fast but even so.

Then there were the women. At least he thought they were women. Kara had told him they were, as she was herself, and that, of course, they were her friends.

But the notion they might all of them be softened by their experience and ready and willing to help the husband of their friend was proved false when he looked through the grill of the third cell and found himself lucky to keep his nose. What leaped up and took hold of the bars didn't look very much like a woman to him. Her breath, her clawing hands, the glob of spittle that landed on his face. But maybe this was what this place taught you?

"Arland!"