“Shall I tell you what I spied a mere fifty miles south of here? Who I saw, Blackbeak?” Manon stiffened. “Crochans,” the spider said, then sighed deeply. Hungrily. Manon blinked. Just once. The Thirteen had gone equally still. Asterin asked, “You’ve seen the Crochans?” The spider’s massive head bobbed in a nod before she sighed again. “The Crochans always tasted of what I imagine summer wine to be like. What chocolate, as you call it, would taste like.”
