Billowstowne: A Tale of Perception and Actuality
an excerpt

Iona’s father hadn’t noticed her early return but he was glad of it. Since she had left, the boy and the old man had been sitting completely still in the Silverstorm store, not looking, not purchasing anything and not responding to his inquiries as to whether or not he could help them. Marcelus was scared – and he felt ridiculous that an old man and his creature could frighten him when rough sailors and mercenaries from all over the world had not. They sat like statues, their backs touching each other, their eyes closed in the middle of the candles. A few other customers had come in, but had made their business quick when they saw the strange pair. Marcelus had tried to ask them to leave, but they continued to sit there, humming softly and slightly out of key with each other.

As soon as Iona walked in, the old man and the boy opened their eyes. She looked at them for a second and then glanced at her father. He lifted his eyebrows and shrugged. “Did you enjoy your walk, my dear?” he asked.