Turn in the Tables
‘What does it mean, master?’ Cornellius asked.
They both stared at the glass on the table. It was a miracle it had happened in the first. Never before had either of them seen anything like it.
The water inside the glass rose on one side.
‘I don’t know,’ whispered the master. ‘Perhaps the prophecies are true. Where did you find it?’
‘Out by the creek at the edge of the city.’
The master froze, his expression placid. ‘Well, I’ll be blown. The tables are turned.’
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