“Want to try one?” he asks, eyes sparkling, holding a clam out to me. “Raw?” I’m not even bothering to hide how much that grosses me out. He...laughs. “It’s a rite of passage in my family. You have to eat them raw or you’re disowned.” “Well, in my family we tend to broil our shellfish, but thanks for the offer,” I say. He sets his clam gear high on the sand, out of the surf, then sits back on his heels and looks at me appraisingly. “What?” I ask, suspiciously. “Nothing,” he says, but his brown. " I motioned to my companions. "Thisis my assistant, Joanne Minkster, and Sister Maggie Finn from Ythren.It might be more comfortable, but I'd rather get the real farmexperience, as much as we can get in a week, anyway."Her brown eyes crinkled with amusement. Plainly she thought the wholeidea was idiocy, but she didn't miss a beat. "As ye say is how you'llget it then. These fine women with me are Vice Directress GingerMannfred and Priestess Lana Anther."The Vice Directress extended a large firm. More

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