“Well?”
Fiona demands, “Have you seen me before?”
“Teenage
boy?” the pirate interjects, “Preferably European?”
“I
didn't mean nothing by it,” the sandman protests, “Don't know why
I said it. I've got a customer here, leave me alone. Now sir,” he
turns his back on Fiona to address the pirate, “What kind of age
were you looking for? I've a thirteen, a fourteen and a seventeen.”
“Thirteen
would be perfect,” replies the pirate. How much...”
“You
will be quiet,” Fiona cuts the pirate off. His mouth keeps moving
but there's no sound, which brings a look of horror to his face.
“And you,” she says to the sandman, “You do not turn your back
on me,” Fiona declares, “You will tell me if you've seen me
before.”
The
sandman turns, obviously against his will, panic and terror fighting
for control of his eyes. “One... once or twice” he stammers,
then gestures at the harbour, “We all have, you fetch a pretty
penny when you're dreaming.”
