63. Farewell, days of hell

At first, I thought the relic was shooting me with electric shocks… but it wasn’t exactly that: it seemed to have simply mistaken me for an object and was trying to create… a bond with me. It took me a moment to realize this, and another moment to realize that the spells it was casting were destroying me. It wasn’t sucking my jaypu like vampiric foam: it was modulating my morjas. And not just my bones, but my skin, my muscles, my… everything. Absolutely everything. The Solance had gone like mad, trying to envelop me with its enchantment. As if I were a magara! I was a living being, devils! Yet the Solance did not know it.

I tried to move it on the pedestal. It was as heavy as a rock. Blasthell, even though it was no bigger than the palm of my hand! I gritted my teeth and pushed it with all my might. It did not move an inch. It was as if its own energy was keeping the relic chained to the pedestal. Great… I wasn’t going to be able to get it out of there by myself.

I let go of it. And, horrified, I realized that nothing changed. Solance was still attacking me, still altering me. I wanted to run away. But I couldn’t run away. Not without the Solance. I took out the small yellow bottle and emptied it all over the relic. The attack barely slowed down. Okay, then. I had only one option left: use the hydra blood. It could destroy the black steel. It could destroy everything. I hesitated, but knowing that the Solance was killing me little by little, I stopped doubting. Trembling, I took out the vial with the powder. I still had half of it left. I threw it all on the pyramid and emptied the bottle of water. The first thing I noticed was that the bright light of the Solance was fading, leaving me in the dark. The buzzing became shrill, and I covered my ears and screamed… A ball of energy threw me off the pedestal with a terrifying “BANG!”, and everything went black.

Followed a profound silence. I tried to get up, staggered, and collapsed again, saturated with energy. My morjas was all jumbled up. And my right hand no longer obeyed me. It was as if it were dead. And not only my hand: my whole arm was as good as dead. Gosh. I took out one of the bones of my ferilompard and sucked out the morjas. Strangely enough, it calmed me down and cleared my mind.

Blindly, I groped the ground and returned to the pedestal. I climbed up and reached out… only to find that the Solance was gone. I tried to cast a light spell, but my energy stem was already too consumed, and anyway, I reminded myself, no harmonic light could exist in complete darkness.

Staggering, as if in a dream, I groped my way up the stairs, climbed up, pushed open the door, and the light in the hallway finally confirmed that I had not gone blind. That would have become a bad habit. The guard was still there, snoozing soundly as before. At least that was something.

I took a torch from the wall, examined my right hand, and, satisfied that it was still whole, though useless, I rushed back downstairs with the intention of looking for Solance. I found it on the floor almost immediately. It was… in bad shape. In very bad shape.

I bent down and touched it with the point of a picklock. The pyramid now looked slumped, but it had not disintegrated completely. That was good news. I touched it with my right hand, but I could not feel anything through it, so finally I touched it with my left hand… and again I could feel nothing. Well, I did sense sparks of brulic energy with messy but harmless patterns. And nothing else. Was it bad? Were they going to scold me for it? No, why would they do that? Come on, Mor-eldal: move. You’ve got the relic, then get moving… I swallowed. I only wanted to get out of there as quick as possible.

I awkwardly wrapped the atrophied relic in my satranin-soaked handkerchief, put it in my pocket and initiated the retreat. I left the way open, as planned, exited the forbidden zone and headed for the back door of the north wing. It was the closest. But, overwhelmed by events, at one point I took a wrong turn, turned around several times, pulled my hair out, racking my brains, and… finally, I found the right door. I almost forgot to deactivate the traps. I slapped my forehead to clear my mind, because I still felt like I was in a cloud of energy. I opened the door… and closed it again without going through it, for I had just remembered that I had to signal through a window with a harmonic light. But I found myself unable to cast a spell. I was dry. Completely dry.

Finally, I opened the door, closed it, and went out into the cold. The truth is, I was glad to see that it was still dark. I could have sworn that days had passed, even years…

I saw a light out of the corner of my eye and threw myself on the grass. I crawled away from the Palace and came to some shrubs. I crouched down and scanned the shadows. Where were the Black Daggers? Blasthell, where were they? They had not gone away, had they?

Suddenly, I heard the rustling of leaves, and with my heart beating wildly, I whispered:

“Elassar… Elassar, are you there?”

I saw a figure emerge from a nearby shrub, and terror overcame me as I thought: that is not my cousin, the flies have taken him, and…

“Spirits, sari,” Yal called suddenly. “You forgot the signal. I was about to attack you. How did it go?”

“Er… Sm-Smoothly,” I replied. And I resumed in a firmer voice: “The way is clear. I have the Solance. But I don’t have the Op—”

“It doesn’t matter,” Yal cut me off, patting my shoulder. “It’s good enough that you came back alive. So the way is completely clear? You’re an ace, sari. Come. We’ll let the others know.”

We walked away in the bushes. Yal soon outdistanced me: I was walking like a drunkard. That is why, before I even reached the meeting place, I saw at least ten masked figures with empty bags passing by me, ready to enter the Palace. Two of them tapped me on the shoulder and whispered:

“Good job.”

I was elated. I was exhausted, crippled, dizzy… but I was elated nonetheless. And while I was rejoicing in my success, I kept sucking the morjas out of one of the bones of the ferilompard to keep my mind off the fact that… my right hand looked like it was dead. Completely dead.

As the other thieves walked away towards the Palace, Yal leaned close to me.

“Well. Now all that remains is to ensure a safe exit for all of us… Hey. Are you feeling okay?” he then asked, as I staggered.

“Yes, yes,” I muttered. “I’m ragingly well. The only problem is my hand, it’s beastly stuffed. It’s because of the Solance. It left me like drugged. But fine. What time is it?”

“Two hours past,” Yal informed me to my astonishment. “Everything is going as planned.”

I couldn’t believe it. I huffed and puffed and said:

“Two hours past what day?”

There was a brief silence and a:

“Mmph.” Yal ruffled my hair, amused. “I think we’d better get moving.”

I followed him, faithful as a shadow, dazed as if I had been hit on the head by a rain of punches. At times we moved slowly, at others we had to run. And when we had to run, I felt as clumsy as a mole in a tree.

We returned to the wall, and there, after making sure that no one was in sight, Yal took out the rope and tied it around my waist.

“Hold on tight. When you get to the bottom, untie yourself quickly and cross the street.”

Despite my daze, I understood something that did not please me.

“Aren’t you coming with me?”

“Oh,” Yal said, shaking his head. “My work isn’t done yet, sari. Yours is. And more than well. Korther asked me to tell you: congratulations. Ah. By the way. Just don’t brag about it to your friends, okay?”

I pretended to protest, but I accepted:

“It runs. Not a word.”

I guessed his smile.

“You better. Come on, this is no place to talk,” he encouraged me. “We’ll talk another day. You take care of yourself.”

We made sure that no patrols were passing along Harp Street, and Yal began to take me down. I glanced curiously at the sea of houses and lights. Estergat looked so different from above… like a sky full of orange stars.

I touched the ground and worked to untie the rope. The thing is, with one hand, it wasn’t easy. I tried to bend over to use my teeth and… hands grabbed me. I hiccupped in surprise.

“Quiet,” the Albino’s voice commanded me.

He helped me to untie the rope and dragged me out of the street of the wall before anyone saw us. I whispered:

“I have the Solance!”

“Shut up.”

He said nothing else to me until we were back in the same empty nail-pincher house as before. He took me down to a cellar, where there was an open trap door and two henchmen, both dark elves. The Albino finally stopped.

“Show it to me.”

I took out the handkerchief and handed it to him, but he would not take it. I smiled.

“It’s okay. It won’t bite. It’s not working.”

I showed it to him as I unfolded the handkerchief. The Albino had a skeptical look on his face, I’m not sure if it was because of what I said or because of the size of the relic.

“This… is the Solance? Really?”

I sensed something in his tone of voice that made me shudder.

“Natural that it is!” I asserted. “It’s a little different now, but I… uh… couldn’t help it. The important thing was to keep it away so it couldn’t activate the links, right? It’s just a little damaged…”

I choked at Jarvik’s frozen expression.

“A little damaged,” he repeated in a dry voice. “And how in the world did you get a relic into such a state?”

I swallowed hard. Should I say it? Should I not say it? I said it:

“I threw the vial of hydra blood on it.” Quick as a snake, the Albino grabbed me by the ear, and I shouted in protest, “It was vital, I swear, blasthell! I brought you the Solance like Frashluc told me to!”

“Quiet,” the Albino hissed.

I pressed my lips together, my eyes filled with tears. After the “congratulations,” and the “good work,” of the Black Daggers, here was this isturbag coming to take all the glory away from me! But why would Frashluc want the Solance intact? It would have been impossible to move it from there!

Under the politely interested gaze of the two dark elves, the Albino grabbed me by the neck and said:

“Get going and you can pray, gwak. Pray hard that Frashluc doesn’t let his dogs loose on you.”

He led me down the stairs by the neck. And we went down and down the stairs and through the tunnels. I was too depressed, too distressed, too unable to think two reasonable thoughts in a row to look around. I had failed. That was all I could think of at that moment. I had failed!

We came out into the open through a building, I’m not sure which one, and we walked down an alley… I’m not sure which one either. I recognized the place soon after we entered the small door of The Yellow Dragon.

Inside, the Albino spoke in a low voice to several people, he greeted some, and even looked calm. I remained invisible to all these people, and if it had not been for the strong hand which held me by the scruff of the neck like a dead rabbit by the ears, I might well have escaped, and I would have run to find my companions and say to them, “Let’s leg it, guys!”.

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

But the Albino gave me no such option. With the help of a nosy friend, he led me into a room, took the Solance, the knife, the picklocks, and the three empty vials from me, threw the rest into the room, making sure I had nothing else of value, and I, meanwhile, remained silent as a grave.

“What’s with all the bones?” the Albino’s friend inquired, curious.

I shrugged.

“To play jacks.”

He believed me. The Albino left, looking as if he had much to do, and the friend closed the door, put down the lantern, and leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. He was a white, blond, muscular human. And he was dressed like a fallen nail-pincher. He asked me:

“What’s your name, copper?”

Valleys humans were called coppers because of the color of their skin. It was supposed to be an insult. But it depended on who said it. My mate Lin used to call me copper all the time. However, just now… the tone offended me. Nevertheless, I answered:

“Draen.”

The blond man arched his eyebrows. He looked me up and down and asked:

“What’s wrong with your arm?”

I swallowed. I wasn’t sure if he knew about the Solance, so I lied:

“I bumped into something, and it’s numb now.”

He stepped back from the wall and approached with an interested pout:

“Really?”

He held out a hand. I stepped back. He moved forward. I stepped back. Until he touched my arm. First firmly, then gently. Except that I felt nothing at all, and the discovery horrified me almost as much as the blonde’s hungry eyes. I pushed him with my good hand with all my might. It was useless. He pressed me down and whispered to me:

“Don’t be stupid. I do that with all the gwaks I like, kid. I recruit them and sell them to those who share my tastes. Think about it. I know you have issues with Frashluc. If you satisfy me, I can help you. I’m his nephew, after all.”

I stopped struggling, exhausted. I just had to come across this isturbag when I was in bad shape, with a useless arm, and unable to do any kind of magic. I saw him smile. Now, yes, I could feel his hands. And I could feel his breath as he leaned closer and ordered me in a whisper:

“Don’t cry.”

I stirred weakly. Son of a dog, son of a dog, I repeated to myself inwardly. The blond man grumbled in an annoyed tone:

“You cry too much, you little gwak brat. Wipe that snout. You pig.”

He was stronger, but I could scream. I burst out:

“PIG YOURSELF AND YOUR DAMNED SOUL!”

The blond man’s eyes widened in disbelief. Without warning, he grabbed me by the neck with a strong hand and gave me a look full of contempt and sarcasm. I wanted to send him the greatest mortic discharge of my life… But I couldn’t even create it in my hand! I began to gasp for breath, and suddenly something inside me sparked. I think it was the overload of the Solance that was flaring up. Not surprising, since I was still charged with energy. The blond man pulled away abruptly, and a glint of fear passed through his eyes. He growled:

“I have no need for a whining gwak who shouts insults at respectable people. Rot in hell, copper wizard.”

I saw him open the door, and as he locked it, I drew in a breath of air, still horrified. After a long silence, I struck the wall with my good fist, picked up all the ferilompard bones, seized one, the largest, and sucked, sucked the morjas for a long moment, and then brought my hand to my Daglat pendant. Trembling, like a good devotee, I kissed the star, and in a whisper, I let out:

“May the ancestors and the Patron Saint curse you, nameless isturbag. May they curse Frashluc. The Albino. The nail-pinchers. Curse, curse, curse you,” I repeated fervently.

Rogan said that cursing the guilty always brought some consolation. But I only succeeded in killing time, and then, finally, feeling more dead than alive, I lay down on the pallet and fell into a restless sleep, still stuffed with energy. And fed up with everything.

When I woke up, I had come to the conclusion—I’m not sure whether in a dream or just when I woke up—that, since the isturbags wouldn’t leave me in peace, I wasn’t going to leave them in peace either. I had gotten into the Palace to steal the unstealable Jewel of Estergat, so what was attacking a handful of isturbags compared to that? I would be their worst nightmare, yes! I was going to take justice into my own hands, I was going to become the hero of the gwaks, they would sing my exploits, they would…

The door swung open, interrupting my spiritual momentum. And… Le Bor appeared. With Taka.

It was like seeing two stars in a completely dark sky. I got up and rushed towards them, shouting:

“Sir! Ma’am!”

Le Bor gave me one of those friendly pouts that looked fake but in reality weren’t. Taka hugged me and said:

“Kid! You look terrible! I’ve just left you for a few days, and there you are, as dirty as if you’d rolled around in the mud. Ah!” She shook her head, feigning displeasure. “Shyuli told me of your exploits last night… Honestly, you should never have done that! If I’d known it was so risky, I would have chained you up to keep you from going.”

“Everything went well, darling,” Le Bor interjected, amused.

“Thank goodness, yes!” the lady exclaimed. She buttoned up my coat as if I were a six-year-old brat while saying, “How are you? You know you’re rich now? Eight hundred and forty goldies! Come on, let’s go outside, your friends are waiting for you. Little Wolf, too.”

I breathed in, delighted, and was about to rush after the lady when Le Bor held me back.

“Just a minute. We’ll be right there, my queen,” he said. And as Taka walked away, he closed the door to the room and said to me, “I must admit you impressed me, Four-Hundred. Nail-pinchers are the laughing stock of the whole Cats. A total success.” He paused, and when I said nothing, he arched an eyebrow. “Aren’t you happy?”

I nodded.

“Oh. Yes. Yes, I am. But I thought… I thought Frashluc wouldn’t.”

Le Bor looked at me in surprise, frowned, and seemed to understand.

“Ah. Natural. Because they locked you in here, right? That’s just regular procedure in the brotherhood. Don’t let it affect you. For your information, they’ve already locked me up twice. When they don’t want someone to leave, they lock them up. Security measures, they call them. Besides, Frashluc didn’t say he wasn’t happy. In fact, he didn’t say anything, so… you’re free, Four-Hundred.”

I breathed out, pensive.

“Is that true?” I swallowed. “Is it true they locked you in here?”

Le Bor huffed.

“Of. Once, because I started breaking everything in the tavern. A long time ago. Not long before I met my queen. And another time… I don’t remember. Brotherhood stuff.”

I stared at him and almost asked him: “Had a blond idiot come to see you too?” But I kept my mouth shut, because asking that seemed ridiculous. Le Bor would have punched that isturbiag in the face and sent him to the other side of the Rock. I sighed and glanced at my right arm. I still couldn’t move it. I had begun to feel a slight tingling sensation… but other than that, it was as if my arm didn’t exist.

Noticing Le Bor’s scrutinizing gaze, I hastened to say:

“It’ll be all right. The arm, I mean. It’s better than yesterday.”

Le Bor grimaced.

“Hell. Those things are part of the job, I suppose. Ah, I wanted to give you this,” he added. He pulled a bottle from his pocket. It was the bottle he had taken from my older brother.

“The cure!” I exclaimed.

“Be careful not to drop it,” Le Bor replied. “There’s a gang looking for all the sokwatas to give them a dose. Your friends have already taken it. Apparently they spent quite a few hours with one foot in the grave, so I recommend you don’t take it until you’ve found a good shelter and cover.”

These last words calmed me down and darkened me a little too. I kept the bottle in my pocket and gave him a smiling, understanding pout.

“Are you leaving already?”

Le Bor nodded.

“Sure I am. You understand, the reason I escaped from Carnation was also because I knew some people were going to leave me holding the bag with the corpse. Just a figure of speech, not a real corpse,” he hastened to say. “Free trader, you know what I mean. Like our companion Crooked Foot.” We exchanged a smile, reminiscing about our time in prison. Le Bor’s smile twisted. “One of these mornings, I’ll get snaffled and sent to the mines. And I’d never do something like that to Taka. So we’re leaving. We might even join my friend the Raiwanese. I don’t know why, but, when the three of us are together, everything is always better.” He watched me for a few moments and concluded, “It’s inevitable, Four-Hundred.”

I nodded, accepting his decision. I had already accepted it the other night, anyway. Le Bor hesitated and said:

“Oi. I thought. If you want, you can come with us. With Little Wolf. But just you and Little Wolf.”

The proposal made my eyes widen. Me, go with Le Bor and Taka and leave the Rock?

“Good mother, do you mean it?” I gasped.

Le Bor smiled.

“No, man, it was a joke,” he replied. And he laughed. “Of course I mean it. You can stay here and become a famous thief. Or stay and live with that family of yours that you don’t know. Or… come live with me and Taka and become a smuggler, a lively pretender, and an expert card player. I’ll love you like a son. What do you say?”

For a moment, it seemed like a bright, wonderful, awesome future, but… there was a problem. I bit my lip.

“The Little Wolf and I. Just us?”

Le Bor cleared his throat. My hesitant tone had been too eloquent. We looked at each other, he shook his head, smiled, and ruffled my hair.

“I understand, kid. Comrades mean everything to a gwak, right?”

I shrugged, but nodded frankly.

“At least, to me. My cronies, and the Priest, and the others… And my cousin. Besides… I can’t go away from Estergat without talking with my brother. He must hate me to death.”

“Bah,” Le Bor said calmly. “He just took a little walk, asleep. As long as you don’t spill the beans on me…”

I rolled my eyes, and both good-humoured and thoughtful, Le Bor put his hand on the door handle and observed:

“That’s the best, you’re right. Dragging a pest and a toddler with a bone doll would have worn my patience out in no time,” he joked. “By the way, those eight hundred and forty siatos, I’m going to leave them with Korther with the promise that he’ll give them to you bit by bit. So you won’t get robbed. How’s that?”

I nodded. There was an awkward silence, and then he opened the door, and we left the room together. I said, uneasy:

“Thanks for the offer, anyway. It made me happy.”

Le Bor shrugged his shoulders. And as we descended the stairs, I asked:

“Where are you going to go?”

Le Bor looked at me out of the corner of his eye with a crooked smile.

“Mm. I’ll tell you one thing, Four-Hundred: never tell the one who stays where you’re going. It brings bad luck.”

I looked surprised, but I believed him and did not insist. We crossed the tavern room, and I was already dying to see my companions and was ready to run between the tables when I sighted the figure of the last person I wanted to see that day. The blond isturbag. He was sitting at a table with some companions. He saw me. I stopped dead in my tracks. And Le Bor, who was a very perceptive man, frowned when he saw my expression, he followed the direction of my gaze, and his face turned to ice. He did not ask me anything. He only said to me:

“Wait for me outside.”

And he went straight to the isturbag. I would not have lost the scene even for eight hundred and forty siatos, and I stayed by the exit door while Le Bor took the last steps. The isturbag sat up in his chair, alarmed, and… Le Bor grunted something, picked him up by the collar of his coat, the customers looked up, curious, and… pow! The punch went towards the isturbag’s head. I laughed out loud. Good mother, he really did it! Le Bor left the man there, with a bloody nose, and he said in a serene voice:

“Excuse the ruckus.”

He zigzagged between the noisy tables and reached me with a calm gait, but his eyes were still flashing.

“That was great!” I said, and regaining my seriousness, I thought it was important to confess: “Ah. He didn’t really do anything to me. He ran away because I scared him.”

Le Bor arched an eyebrow, and after glancing at his defeated victim, shrugged.

“It doesn’t matter, the guy’s a bastard.”

There was no question about it. With a vindictive smile, I flipped the finger stylishly at the blond isturbag, and to the frown of a few clients, hurried out of the tavern behind Le Bor. Manras, Dil, Rogan, and Little Wolf were waiting for me outside, just as Taka had said. When I saw them, I almost literally burst with joy. I roared a:

“Comrades, ayo!”

And they welcomed me with open arms. I poked Dil’s head, cleaned Little Wolf’s nose, patted Manras on the shoulder, and stole Rogan’s hat. With all that done, the rest could wait, and I turned to Le Bor and Taka, knowing it was time to say goodbye. Taka hugged me and made me promise to take care of myself and not squander my small fortune.

“And no debts,” she warned me.

“Not even one!” I promised, and added, “Thank you for the advice. You are very kind, ma’am. I’d tell you a lucky prayer, but the Priest is better at those things, so… I want to give you something.”

Taka’s emerald eyes sparkled with emotion.

“A gift for me?”

I bit my lip.

“Well, yes. I know you don’t like bones, but…” I stuck my hand in my pocket and handed her one of the ferilompard bones. The prettiest one. I swallowed my saliva. “This is so you won’t forget me, ma’am.”

The beautiful lady accepted the gift with a trembling smile, and I even saw her take out her handkerchief to dry her tears.

With Le Bor, it was less expansive. We shook hands like buddies and, after exchanging a look that said “well, such is life, ayo,” he said to me:

“Don’t change, Four-Hundred.”

These words etched themselves into my mind, for my nakrus master had told me something very similar before I left the cave. Something like: never stop being yourself. It meant that Le Bor loved me as I was, Four-Hundred, a slightly impulsive but honest gwak. I inhaled, touched, and replied:

“You neither, sir dad.”

He raised a mocking eyebrow at the name, but he did not tease me out loud. In fact, I think my words actually moved him. And then an acquaintance of Le Bor came along, and they began to talk, and gradually, unconsciously, pushing, bantering, and joking, my comrades and I moved away into the Gray Square. A moment later, when I turned back to The Yellow Dragon and looked for Le Bor and Taka, I could not find them. This time for sure, I thought. This time for sure I was never going to see them again.

I shrugged, smiled, took out another ferilompard bone and handed it to Little Wolf:

“This is for you, demorjed. So that you can gorge yourself on morjas.”

The blond boy’s eyes glowed with emotion. He took the Master out from under his coat and compared it with the little bone, as if he were looking for a place to put it. He put it on his head, and I laughed.

“Master never wore a hat, shyur!” Then I thought it twice, tilting my head. “Blasthell, actually, it suits him quite well. We’ll hitch it to him,” I promised. And I turned to my companions. “Well, an urgent refuge, because I want to take the cure now. Did it hurt much?” Their eloquent grimaces did not bode well for me, but I was not alarmed. “Bah. Health is worth it, cronies!”

So they led me to the new shelter of Swift, in the Labyrinth. Before I arrived, I saw two familiar figures at the well, filling empty bottles. I raised a hand as I approached.

“Lin, how are you!”

The musician’s mate looked up and jumped, surprised.

“Sharpy! How are you!”

“Wind in the sails,” I said. And I explained, pointing to the bottle, “I’m going to the shelter to toast to health.”

“Gosh,” Lin said. “Well, it just so happens that others have just arrived with these same vials. Since Manras and Dil already took the cure and nothing happened to them, well, they’re going to take it now too. Go ahead if you want. Swift says he’s going to spend the night somewhere else because you’ll be screaming.”

I grimaced slightly apprehensively, but hurriedly followed the direction he had indicated, left my cronies, Rogan, and Little Wolf behind, and arrived at the shelter just as Damba, Venoms, and Diver were raising their flasks with solemn expressions.

“Wait, wait!” I exclaimed.

I glanced around. The hut was a simple alley full of junk, with a pile of laundry hanging on the upper floors and unknown gwaks and Cats of all sorts strolling about, killing time. My companions smiled and looked confused when they saw me.

“What’s going on, Sharpy?” Damba asked, concerned. “Don’t tell me they got the wrong medicine?”

I laughed.

“Thunders, no! The thing is, I’m coming with my bottle too. How about we all toast together?”

Diver smiled.

“Glad to see you again, shyur.” And, raising his bottle once more time, he pronounced: “Here’s to Swift’s gang.”

“And to Sharpy,” a forceful voice interjected behind me.

I turned my head and saw Swift leaning on a doorway with his staff in hand. The red-headed elf had found a new long, black cloak, and with his scarred face, the kap looked like something out of a tale of terror. Grinning from ear to ear, I uncorked the bottle with my teeth and cried out:

“Here’s to Swift and the gang!”

And we drank.