CHAPTER THIRTEEN—THERE ARE STRAWS, AND THERE ARE STRAWS

Razul snorted, then wiped his nose with the back of his hand.

Shiro rolled his eyes.

“So the Hahkamorra has an incredibly tough hide. Actually, it is not so much the hide, but rather the transparent filament covering it.”

“Speak to the point,” Debaku said.

“All right,” Razul said. “I see you two do not care about the finer points of an adventurer’s life. The short version is that we cannot cut into the Hahkamorra from the outside.”

“Nani?” Shiro asked, confused.

“And this is what happens when only the short version is said,” Razul added. “You will just have to trust me on this.”

“So what do we do?” Shiro asked, his patience beginning to thin.

“We must kill the Hahkamorra from the… inside. And one of us… must do this.”

The Mar’a Thulian narrowed his eyes for a moment, then said, “You are telling us that we must be eaten in order to cut our way out from the inside?”

“Yes,” Razul said. “The Hahkamorra may have an extremely slow digestive system with weak acids, so we could trap it and starve it to death, but even by that time, Ali and our men will have been—“

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

“Hai!” Shiro said. “We understand.”

Amusement came forth from Jessamine. I wonder who gets to be the lucky man?

Perhaps you should be, Shiro conveyed.

Mmm. I think not.

And of course, Jessamine bowed out from volunteering for this task. But there was no time to waste.

Suddenly Razul bent down and picked some thin reeds out of the pool of water they were standing beside. He snapped all three, then took one and cut it slightly shorter.

“Is this a joke?” Shiro asked.

“Of course not,” Razul said. “An adventurer must be prepared for disgusting trials, and often, simple games of chance to choose the best man for the task. This is necessary.”

Shiro growled low inside his throat, but shook off the buffoonery, a quirk Razul seemed to share with his brother.

“Just hurry up.”

With a nod, he took the straws and lined them up evenly between his hands and rolled them quickly. He then thrust his hands forward. “Draw a straw,” Debaku.

The Mar’a Thulian glanced at Razul’s hands dubiously, but then took a straw.

“Not bad. Not bad,” Razul said “Now, Shiro. You.” He offered the straws.

Do not make the wrong choice, my love, or I will not be coming to hold you in my arms while you’re covered in that beast’s bile.

Silence, Jinni.

Shiro plucked a straw from Razul’s hand, and the Abassir man smiled widely. “Now, reveal your straws.”

Each man put theirs forward, and it turned out that Shiro had the short straw.

“Wonderful,” he growled.

“Well,” Razul said cheerily, “it will not be the first time you have gone into the maw of a beast to writhe about like a fool, or so I hear."

“Be silent,” Shiro said.

Raz put up his hands. "There are straws, and there are straws,Shiro."

He nodded, accepting his fate before striding forward. He glanced back at Debaku and Razul one last time, then stepped forward across the rocks toward the mouth of the cave.

Ugh! Jessamine conveyed.

Shiro sighed heavily. “You owe me, Ali.”