Thieves World 7 – The Dead of Winter by Asprin, Robert

tears. Illyra and Seylalha started toward Gilla just as Alfi detached himself

from his sister.

Gilla motioned to the two other mothers to sit close beside her and carefully

slid the children onto their laps just as her own children reached her. She was

still making soothing noises, but the heavens continued their explosions

outside.

“Quiet-quiet now, my little ones-see, your mamas are here! We’ll keep you safe

now, you don’t need to make all this noise …”

“Can’t stop!” Gyskouras said between hiccups. His fair hair was plastered to his

head and his cheeks were streaked with tears.

“‘Fraid …” echoed the dark child in Illyra’s arms.

Both children were still trembling, as if only Gilla’s steady voice kept them

from giving way to their terror once more. Relative peace had returned to the

room, making the noise outside seem louder. Lalo looked around desperately,

wondering if it would help to distract or amuse them somehow.

Toys were scattered on the floor and building blocks, art materials, and games

were stacked on shelves to one side. Lalo’s eyes widened. He remembered abruptly

how his colored flies had amused Alfi.

Painfully, for now he felt all the aches from his battle with the storm, Lalo

went to the shelves and picked up a slate and a basket of colored chalks.

Holding them as if they might bite, he came back to the little group in the

center of the room and squatted down.

“Do you like pretty pictures? What do you like- butterflies?” A swift stroke of

the chalk laid the sweep of a red wing; another suggested the long body and