Chapter 27: Distraction is a failure of internal discipline
To Fabrisse’s shock, it took them less than seven minutes to contain all the remaining Clucklebeaks. They couldn’t fly very far or for very long, and they always stopped after a while to perform their multiplying ritual, which was essentially just an act of intimacy. Lorvan had warned that these creatures were aetherically imbued, though, so there was no telling what could happen once they laid an egg.
Fabrisse tried not to picture what an aetherically infused egg looked like. He failed.
Feathers were now drifting through the courtyard like post-combat confetti as they walked back toward the direction of the North Pond. A few glyphlights stuttered above them, still recovering from the sudden magical noise. Fabrisse winced at the flickering lights. It hurt his eyes when the lightstream wasn’t continuous.
Lorvan walked ahead, back straight, robes barely dusted, surrounded by thirteen softly glowing hexagrams. Each one hovered midair with a neatly contained Clucklebeak suspended inside like a very disgruntled star in a magical snow globe.
He extended a hand toward Fabrisse without turning his head. “The fourteenth, please.”
Fabrisse glanced down at the bird still nestled in his coat. It opened its eyes wide as it gazed at him longingly. Then it nibbled his collar. Then it fluffed itself and gave a soft, non-aggressive gwaark as it rubbed affectionately against his sternum like a cat that had made a very odd evolutionary detour.
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