by Sarah | August 23rd, 2011

The kitchen door opens and the redheaded woman walks out. There’s a young boy, perhaps 8, behind her with the offal. The fire-lizards are all aware of the food, but are waiting impatiently for permission to eat.

“Most people who come to see me don’t ask for uncooked meat,” says Scarlett. “But I ain’t met many castle folks.”

If this is an ambush, it’s a slow ambush.

“It ain’t an ambush – you’re a girl. I’d guard your purse, though. Not that I think she’s likely to steal it, but she’s damned sure going to charge you an arm and a leg for that meat…”