“And if you or anyone else touches that gem sage you had couriered from Bastian, I’ll cut the tongue from your mouth and feed it to the seabirds. Then I’ll tie you to the anchor and drag you over the nearest reef until the flesh is peeled back from your bones enough that no one in the Narrows will recognize you. You’ll live the rest of your days in Waterside, begging for the rotten fish the ships can’t sell on the docks.”
