‘Should I go after him?’ Kit asked.
Barto lifted a brow. ‘Even if you could catch him, I don’t think you’ll be able to convince him to return.’
‘Damn. Who’s going to finish the work?’
‘What do you mean—he was trepanned?’ Sydony’s voice rang out so loudly that both Barto and Kit both looked at her in surprise.
‘How can you two calmly discuss repairs when there is a skull secreted in our floor with holes drilled into it?’
For a moment, Barto wondered whether Sydony had succumbed to the ways of her gender, but she appeared to be more angry than hysterical.
‘Calm down, Syd. There are all sorts of strange things in buildings that are this old,’ Kit said. ‘Maybe it’s some saint or another. Lots of medieval churches have famous relics and bones.’
‘Not with holes drilled in them,’ Sydony said. She turned toward Barto with a look of exasperation that was so familiar he felt another giddy slip of time. Only firm resolve kept him from finding it endearing.
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