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   Chapter 82 No.82

The Book of Deacon By Joseph R. Lallo Characters: 5208

Updated: 2018-01-19 19:02

"Might I ask what the problem was?" Deacon wondered.

"A few days ago, Myn managed to chew this little ornament off of a helmet she separated from its owner. I gave it to her as a necklace, but apparently it had some sort of enchantment, " Myranda explained as the trio moved back to her hut.

The dragon was set on Myranda's bed.

"Would you mind if I had a look at that charm? If it was able to ward off our spells, it must be quite powerful, " he said.

She shrugged and handed it to him. Even before it dropped into his hand, he assured her that it was the work of an Entwellian. Looking it over only confirmed it.

"Yes. Yes. I know the man who invented this technique. I believe he is still about if you would like to meet him. Well, in time you will meet everyone, " he said, before returning it to Myranda, who affixed it to the sleeping beast's neck.

"What do you do for food here?" Myranda asked. Right now she was a mass of hunger and anger, and she had to do something before one or the other overcame her.

"Oh, of course, you must be famished. This way. I'll join you. I haven't eaten yet, " he said.

Myranda was lead out of the hut and along a well-worn path. Around the hut she had been given were a dozen others just like it, simple structures of wood with a thatched roof. Young people of every race lingered in the area, each wearing a similar blue tunic. As they continued, Myranda came to realize that the whole of the village, and a sizable one at that, was arranged in small clusters around courtyards with a larger hut a

et things straight! He tells me if I want it, I ought to find it myself!" she raged.

"Well, that should be simple enough. It hasn't been long since the three of you appeared, and already some of the elder members have been telling tales of the last time he was here, " he said.

"What do they say?" she asked, taken aback by the sudden source of new information.

"I am afraid I did not linger long enough to hear the tale. It was Keller doing the recollection. He is a rather narrow-minded member of the warrior school, and all of that hand to hand miscellany just cannot hold my interest. I believe he called him Lain more than once, " Deacon recalled.

"Lain? Then Leo isn't even his real name?" she fumed.

"Oh, it is. . . well, I don't know that it is, but it certainly could be. You see, Lain is less a name and more a title. The stealth masters tend to attach it to the most prized of their pupils, " Deacon explained. "If your friend is rightly called Lain, then he would be the only living one. They are a rare breed."

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