With a drawn cutlass in one hand and a cocked pistol in the other, Blueskin rushed up stairs. ‘You said it. She had heard the trader utter it many times. She drank and drank until his body was a lifeless husk, as light as a mannequin, virtually hollow of all but the fluid in his bones. As she came close, he took a pace forward and seized her from behind, one strong arm clamping her tight against his chest, the free hand seizing her about the mouth, stifling the cry that gurgled in her throat. The slight smile that played upon Winifred's lips seemed to say that she was not quite so sure.
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