by Anne Bishop
“Well,” Theran said, “we shouldn’t keep the Ladies waiting.”
But Ranon stepped outside, his expression a little dazed as he stared at the pots lining the terrace. “Look.”
Theran looked. Then he smiled.
The honey pears were starting to grow.
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Document ID: 7245ffd4-60c4-4abb-8543-3239e1c2deb3
Document version: 1
Document creation date: 28.5.2013
Created using: calibre 0.9.25, FictionBook Editor Release 2.6 software
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