“If Master Farmer had not woken and raised his spell that kept the door locked and the bolt frozen, there’s no telling what sort of mess I might have made in there. Of a certainty my belly threw every meal I’d had in some days out into the Tellerun’s waters, and mayhap even my hopes for future meals. At last I could heave no more. By then my cabinmates were being sick in their turn over other parts of the rail. “Here yez go.” It was the dark-haired ship’s lad, the one who’d said not a word b...efore. He stood at my elbow, offering me a thick mug. I was almost afraid to touch it, in case my heaves might begin again, but the scent that came from it was one of gentle herbs, a tea that meant well by my poor tripes. One sip, and I felt my belly settle. “I don’t understand,” I said once I’d drunk a bit more. “This didn’t happen the last time we took a peregrine ship. Those leather bands are supposed to keep this from happening!”MoreLessRead More Read Less
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