QUOTE : Janner’s skin prickled with pride, and he curled his fingers into fists. He knew they were nothing like Podo’s weathered hands, but they would have to do. Claxton’s eyes flitted to Janner and Tink, then Oskar, considering Podo’s threat. “Ye crept the West Redoubt?” he asked. “Really?” “By the light of the Hanger Moon.” Claxton’s eyes narrowed and burned with a cold light. Such a fierce look passed between the two men that Janner cringed, as if all the darkness in each man’s soul poured out and fought a great battle in the space between them. It wasn’t clear who won, but Claxton appeared satisfied that Podo was at least a worthy enemy, if not a comrade. The tension faded from the bearded man’s face, and he smiled. “Then I’ve found a reason to allow ye to live, Podo Helmer. You’re gonna tell us a tale—an account of the Strand in the days of yer youth. Me clan and I will sleep tonight with the thrill of old stories in our bones.” Claxton’s smile vanished and he lowered his voice. “But if what ye have to give ain’t good enough, old man, then it’ll be the Blapp or my blade for you and your company. We Stranders can fight like dragons too, remember.” Claxton turned to his clan. “Can’t we?” The Stranders bared their teeth and hissed. In one deadly motion, the men, women, and children around the fire drew their knives, ready to leap over the fire at Claxton’s order. 23<br />Growlfist the Strander King Podo stood before the Stranders, shifting his weight from his good leg to his stump and back again. Claxton sat on a log in the center of his clan, his arms folded across his chest. The Igibys and Oskar gathered behind Podo. The fire had burned down to a steady red glow that turned the air the color of a bad dream.