The Wurms of Blearmouth (18 page)

“I was once told that dreams are worthy things,” said Emancipor, “even if they end up in misery and unending horror.”

“Ah, and who told you that?”

He shrugged. “My wife.”

The open road stretched ahead, a winding track of dislodged cobbles, frozen mud, and on all sides, the day brightened with an air of optimism.

Bauchelain then leaned back and said, “Behold, Mister Reese, this new day!”

“Aye, Master. New day.”