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I quested: not a shiver of magic. No scent of burning grasses associated with illusion. It was an actual living tortoise.
The curve of the gargantuan mouth widened. The jaws opened and a black maw gaped before us. I braced for a wave of turtle breath, but no discernible scents emanated from the mouth. The mother of all tortoises rested her chin on the grass and held the pose.
Okay, now I’d seen everything.
Our guide bowed her head and pointed into the tortoise.
“In there?”
She nodded.
“You want us to go into the tortoise?”
Another nod.
“It’s alive.”
Another nod.
“No.” Derek sneezed again.
“I must say it’s a bit irregular.” Ghastek’s voice vibrated with excitement. It’s easy to be deliriously happy about investigating something, when you’re in no danger of being swallowed.
I glanced at the vamp. “How fast can you rip it apart if it eats us?”
“The shell is quite thick. We’d have to exit back through the neck. If it withdraws its head, we’ll have to carve through a lot of flesh.”
“In other words, if it eats us, we’re screwed.”
“Crude but accurate.”
I faced the guide. “Are you coming with us?”
She shook her head.
Nice plan. Take the gullible outsiders, walk them around for a bit, then feed them to the giant tortoise.
The tortoise is full, the outsiders are dealt with, and everybody’s happy.
“Derek, what do you smell?”
He stepped forward, took a deep breath, and doubled over in a sneezing fit. My werewolf was allergic to tortoises. Why me?
“Anything sour? Animal breath?”