But neither does the mummy. They're scoring on a curve. Lazar turns, swipes the goblet from bony hand. Teeth clack and chatter after him, indignant, as Lazar lifts the cup to sniff. His nose wrinkles. Couldn't be any good spirits here, could there?
"Hell's that mean?"
He knows what spleunking is. Half a joke, half true question: What does she mean? Lazar turns the goblet overhand. A clump of spiderweb falls to floor.
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But neither does the mummy. They're scoring on a curve. Lazar turns, swipes the goblet from bony hand. Teeth clack and chatter after him, indignant, as Lazar lifts the cup to sniff. His nose wrinkles. Couldn't be any good spirits here, could there?
"Hell's that mean?"
He knows what spleunking is. Half a joke, half true question: What does she mean? Lazar turns the goblet overhand. A clump of spiderweb falls to floor.