“Has anyone ever told you that being reckless will get you killed?” she asked, imitating his polite tone. “Not that I care that much, but you’ll likely get this kid, as well as John Cinnamon, killed too.” “Kid?” was all he could think of saying, for the collision of words trying to get out of his mouth. “Child, boy, lad, him!” she snapped, jerking her chin toward the little drummer behind him.
