"That's not an easy question to answer," rejoined Blueskin. Lucy howled as tooth met bone, her arm clamped in the trap of Rhea’s huge canines. Wood, you shan't lord it over me, I can promise you. She rose and attacked Lucy, kicking her with the grafted leg that was too big for her body. Nobody who cared. Silk. Wood. At the door to the kitchen, he called out, ‘Pottiswick!’ The old man came out, shoving his chin in the air and glaring. By rights I ought to have arrested her days ago.
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