‘And about the listeners!’ Mraan said, distastefully.

‘Yes, well,’ the old Scribe said, with slow relish, a smile creasing his ascetic features, ‘Do you know what the more modern caste of Men call such tales?’

Mraan, who of course did not know, had no choice but to wait for his father to answer his own question.

‘They call them Faerie Tales.’

Their sudden burst of laughter was cut short by a sound that caused them to look around, nervously.

Frowning, hastily resuming work on the final illustration, Haloch muttered, ‘Nor do I believe in stories about ghosts!’




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