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Summary
“You’re late.”
Robert Gadling was sitting there, smiling at Dream when he walked in. This unexpected revelation made him feel uneasy. When the Fates said ‘an elder,’ he had anticipated someone old, even older than Roderick Burgess at the last stage of his life, someone who was slowly crumbling and fading away with time. But here that person was—a man in his mid-thirties, wearing a blazer with a welcoming smile on his face. Dream’s gaze fell onto the ruby dangling innocently in front of the man’s chest, feeling like someone just thrust a dull knife in his guts and twisted it.
An elder, huh? What a wicked sense of humour.
◦•≫ ⊱ ❈ ⊰ ≪•◦
What if the ruby fell into Robert Gadling’s hands instead of John Dee’s?