The Eyes of a Doll (The World of Shijuren Book 2) by Rob Howell Page A

death, but simply accepted his fate.
    Soon, though, he realized that the Serpent King’s movements scraped the scales of his body in an intricate pattern around Marko’s ears, causing a slight but definite noise. As Marko listened, he realized that the Serpent King was teaching him the language of serpents, then soon the language of birds and dogs and cats and cows and sheep and all other creatures.
    “It is time that you go and keep to your nature,” said the king, “lest the time come that my kiss teaches a different lesson.”
    At the conclusion of the story, we all took a breath.
    “Did you like that story, Ludmilja?”
    Ludmilja nodded and smiled.
    “Do you have a story to tell us back?”
    Ludmilja immediately launched into a chatterbox story of finding a frog by a pond and how it kept squirming out of her hands.
    Marjana looked at us and shook her head slightly.
    “Well, it’s not a Berzeti accent,” whispered Kapric to me.
    After a while, Marjana asked if Ludmilja wanted another Marko story. Ludmilja nodded happily.
    This time Marjana told of the time Marko first arrived in Dassaretum. The mighty prince heard of a fearsome dragon who nested by a small lake. Marko, of course, felt no fear at the prospect of meeting such a dragon, but the beauty of these mountains put in his heart a desire to know all he could of this land. Who better to ask than the old dragon who had lived here for centuries?
    Marko knew that should he show his full might, the dragon would immediately set forth to attack him. So, in order to coax him into conversation, Marko disguised himself as a shepherd and wandered into the realm of the dragon.
    When the dragon sprang upon Marko, the prince begged the dragon to at least tell all that he knew of this place before slaying and eating his rightful prey. The dragon, pleased to have an audience, taught all that he knew.
    As Marjana spoke for the dragon, she changed her voice to an accent I could not place.
    “The stones here were formed by Karthak the Giant...”
    Ludmilja shrieked, “No, not that!”
    “What’s wrong, dear?”
    “Dragons are mean.”
    “But you didn’t mind them when I started the story.”
    “I didn’t know what they sounded like.” With that Ludmilja got up and ran farther back into the house. Zvono sighed and followed Soraya in to comfort her. Kapric leaned towards his mother.
    “Lezhans.”
    “Yes, dear,” agreed Marjana.
    I looked at them. “You think her angry ghosts spoke with a Lezhan accent.”
    They nodded.
    “Well, that’s something. How far is Lezh?”
    “About seven days west on Crownstreet.”
    “Close enough that they could easily know about Biljana’s Springs and the copse of trees there.”
    Kapric nodded as Zvono rejoined us.
    “Lezhans?”
    “Lezhans,” confirmed Zvono.
    As we walked out, I stopped before Radovan.
    “Keep a special eye out for Lezhans. Also, when you see Sebastijan, please ask him to come tell me anything he knows about Lezhans in Achrida.”
    Marjana stopped too and patted his cheek. “And tell him to come home. It’s been too long since he spoke to his mother.”
    Radovan nodded with his mouth open while Kapric stomped away, his mother cheerfully following.

Chapter 8
Early Evening, 1 Blommemoanne, 1712 MG
     
    At the Square of Legends we bid farewell to Marjana, who turned south on the Trade Road toward her home. The rest of us returned to the Faerie, and soon Zoe’s dinner sat before us. Today she served shopska salad and pieces of yesterday’s bread. Some had been put in the oven and toasted with a salty goat cheese, and some held slices of beef that softened the bread with their juices.
    “Tell me about Lezh.”
    As usual, Kapric had not the patience to tell me things obvious to any child in Achrida, so Zvono starting teaching me.
    “Achrida is here because of its location. Two of the old caravan routes, the Kopayalitsa and the Crownstreet, meet with the Trade Road just north of the gates. Also, the city is