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Gwen was sputtering every horrible human word she could think of, and I got the gist of most of them thanks to our mental bond. I cringed as her anger pressed against my brain.
“This way,” the Banda instructed after slipping the transmitter into a pocket.
When the ex-gladiator was momentarily out of sight, I retrieved the case and purple satchel. The large case was not easily hidden, and I was glad I’d not yet ripped off the impractical cape. I used it to tuck around my body and hide the bag under my arm. The satchel, for its part, slipped easily into a side pocket on the leg of the suit.
I followed and Gwen lagged behind. She hadn’t calmed down one bit, or even seen the supplies I’d hidden away.
“You need to calm down. I do not know what terrain we are about to be dropped into.”
“Don’t tell me to calm down,” she hissed.
The vision of her beating Bloodworm’s head into tiny meaty pieces using a long piece of almost cylindrical wood covered in sharp silver spikes assaulted me. Graphic violence. Gwen might not be as useless as Bloodworm expected, but she was certainly going to be trouble.
