"Scared?"
"Maybe you want me to go back! Maybe you think a branded thief isn't good enough for you! Well I can't help where I was born or what my parents were—and you'd have a brand on your ugly face too, if you hadn't just been lucky!"
She threw the ladle.
This time her aim was better and Ciaran didn't duck quite in time. It clipped his ear. He sprang up, looking murderous, and started to heave it back at her. And then, suddenly, Mouse was crying, stamping up and down and blinking tears out of her eyes.
"All right, I'm scared! I've never been out of a city before, and besides...." She looked out over the silent plain, to the distant glint of Ben Beatha. "Besides," she whispered, "I keep thinking of the stories they used to tell—about Bas the Immortal, and his androids, and the grey beasts that served them. And about the Stone of Destiny."
Ciaran made a contemptuous mouth. "Legends. Old wive's tales. Songs to give babies a pleasant shiver." A small glint of avarice came into his grey eyes. "But the Stone of Destiny—it's a nice story, that one. A jewel of such power that owning it gives a man rule over the whole world...."
He squinted out across the barren plain. "Some day," he said, softly, "maybe I'll see if that one's true."
"Oh, Kiri." Mouse came and caught his wrists in her small strong hands. "You wouldn't. It's forbidden—and no one that's gone into the Forbidden Plains has ever come back."
"There's always a first time." He grinned. "But I'm not going now, Mousie. I'm too hungry."