The Balborite Curse (Book 4) by Kristian Alva Page B

downright stingy if ye try to bum a pipeful for yerself. I’ve seen it in the fancy smokeshops, but I can’t afford it.” Endrell’s nose was buried so deep in the pouch that he jumped when Sela snatched it back.
    Sela opened the pouch and inhaled deeply. “You’re right, that does smell good. Those dwarves certainly know how to grow some premium smokeleaf. ”
    Endrell looked confused. He had believed Sela was planning to share. “Well…canna have some?”
    “Well…” Sela paused, seeming to think it over. The seconds ticked by, and the sweet aroma filled the room. She held the pouch open, but just beyond Endrell’s reach. Endrell fidgeted, keenly eyeing the pouch. “Oh, sure,” she said. “I guess it couldn’t hurt.”
    Endrell face cracked into a delighted grin. “Yippee!”
    Tallin observed the unfolding scene with amusement, covering his mouth with his hand to hide his smile. Already, Endrell was doing everything Sela asked, and all for a little bag of smokeleaf. Sela leaned forward, offering the pouch again. Endrell licked his lips, reaching out with his bound hands. When the pouch was just within his reach, Sela jerked it back again. “Oh, wait!” she cried.
    Endrell stumbled forward, losing his balance. With his hands still tied, he landed hard on his elbows. Sela seemed not to notice.
    “Ladies first, you know! Just let me find my pipe! I’m always misplacing the darn thing, you know!” She made a grand show of searching every pocket. When her search came up empty, she patted one boot, then the other, a quizzical look on her face. “I have it here somewhere,” she mumbled softly to herself, but everything she said was loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. She sighed, digging through her pockets a second time. Finally, her eyes lit up. “I found it!” she exclaimed, pulling the pipe out of her boot. Endrell expelled a huge breath. Incredibly, he had been holding his breath the whole time.
    Sela packed the bowl with smokeleaf unhurriedly. Once she was done, she held the pipe right under Endrell’s nose. “Isn’t it lovely? This pipe was carved for me by dwarvish artisans. None can match their pipe-making skills, don’t you agree?”
    Endrell bobbed his head in agreement. “Aye, yes, it’s lovely. Yes, it is.” He licked his lips.
    Sela lit the bowl using a firestick, struck fast against her boot heel. The smoke smelled heavy and sweet and a little lemony. “I’m happy to share,” she said. “Do you have your own pipe? I’ll pack and light it for you, since, you know… your hands are tied.”
    “Yes, ma’am, I do!” he said enthusiastically. He patted his front pockets—then he remembered. He lifted a trembling finger into the air, pointing at Tallin accusingly. “I did have a pipe! I always carry it in my breeches… but all my stuff was pinched at the gate,” his eyes shot daggers, “by that rotten bugger! ”
    The man’s overreaction was absurd, and this time, Tallin turned around and coughed, biting his tongue to suppress his laughter.
    Feeling defeated, Endrell scowled and pouted. Sela waited for a moment, and then an idea seemed to dawn on her. She turned around and smiled. “Tallin, don’t you have an extra pipe you could spare?” Her voice sounded almost pleading.
    Endrell’s eyes lit up, the possibility once again within his grasp. Tallin knew this was all part of the act, so he rolled his eyes, trying to look exasperated. “I doubt I have a spare, but I’ll go look,” he said, leaving the room.
    Sela swiveled around to face Endrell and smiled. “I’m sure he’ll be able to find something.”
    Endrell focused all his helpless anger at Tallin’s retreating back. “That mean bugger! I’ve been cooped up in ‘ere forever. He could’a left my pipe. What harm could come from that?”
    Sela nodded her head sympathetically. The minutes ticked by. Tallin eventually returned, holding an old corncob pipe.
    “Here,” said Tallin. “You can use this