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“He’s spineless,” Thraxa moans “He wouldn’t dare cross us”

“Probably right” Harnassus grinetism or waveforot two hundred brains with a thousand degrees between the step for step with him He’s sether If he’s playing ga as we keep him happy, seems he’ll do e need him to do”

“That’s the trick, isn’t it?” I say

“You want the genius happy, we need sardines,” Harnassus says

“Sardines?”

“He says he gets headaches without sardines for breakfast on Tuesdays Tomorrow is Tuesday and he’s fresh out”

“You have to be joking,” I say for Thraxa

“I don’t da into crystal decanters since he was a teenager So far, no luck If the Heliopolitan Silvers here have sardines, they’re denying it We could raid their kitchens, but we’re on unsteady footing as it is”

“Where’s Sevro when you need him?” I mutter Harnassus raises an eyebrow in query

“What? You think he just always smells like fish?” Thraxa asks

“I think he s, personally,” I reply

“Well, it depends if it’s raining or not”

“Gods, the jungles were rough You remember that trench foot he had?”

“Thought we’d have to amputate,” Thraxa says

“Yeah, you tried”