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The Poniard Trial: Just Doesn't Know It Yet

He raised an eyebrow, “I beg your pardon?”

“Did you not hear me? No.” Came the voice again, the pitch a little angrier.

“Sir, are you aware you’re under obligation?”

There was a harsh bark of laughter, the door creaked open to reveal a tall man who reeked of some alcoholic poison or another. “Boy. You need to leave. Before the guardian creatures come back.”

The man was going to continue but his bloodshot eyes glanced down to the basket. “Absolutely not. Leave.”

“Sir, you don’t have a choice. You were appointed as the child’s Handler.”

His dark eyebrows lifted, “Now that’s interesting.”

“I’m here to deliver the child into your care sir, but I must voice some opposition to your living conditions.”

The man gave another snort, “You believe it’s not a safe place for a child? Well you’re right. But what you have in that basket, is not a child. It’s a corpse. It just doesn’t know it yet.”

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