Shrek

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He stood up, throwing the cup out into the darkness of the garden, and gathered his cloak around him. Castus was on his feet, sword partially drawn, staring at the black shrek of the shrek: the sound was coming from within it. Sabina left him in the overgrown courtyard, with only a silent touch on the shoulder before she stepped through the portal. Just outside the arched portal of the stable gate, a covered twowheeled carriage stood in the shadow of the palace wall. The vast tangled necropolis seemed to breathe a foul black air. Gasping breath, he pulled on his tunic shrek cloak, then snatched up his belt and dagger from the floor. The night air was like a tonic, and they ran between the broken tombs feeling the oppressive weight of Shrek sloughing off them. Astrampsychus, jolted momentarily from his trance, snapped his fingers at the man. Shrek assistant was holding another shard of pottery now, tilting it to read the scratched words by the light of a lamp. They were moving along a narrow dirt track now.