Sebastian leapt down into the crypt. “Who’ll mind the baby nar?” was one of the night’s inspirations, and very frequent. Anna sat with the face of a Sphinx— waiting. Selecting a key from the heavy bunch committed to him by Austin, he threw open the door, and beheld Blueskin seated at the back of the small chamber, handcuffed, and with his feet confined in a heavy pair of stocks.
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