Chapter 7

“It’s a difficult job to amuse yourself,” he said. “I’m just as tired as if I’d worked a full day.”

“The storm takes its toll, as well. Drains a person with its constant, unrelenting assault.”

“I’ve never thought about it before, but you definitely have something there.”

“Shall we light the fire?”

Lucien scooted to the front of the mat and picked up the fire rocks. Using the technique he’d perfected through trial and error, he struck one against the other so that any resulting spark might find the pile of grass and kindling. Perhaps because of the damp conditions, it took longer than usual for the sparks to do their job, and when finally they did, Lucien was glad to be able to let his arms rest. Blowing gently on the smouldering grass, he was relieved when the first tiny flames appeared.

“Bravo,” said Edgar.