Cold Steel (Spiritwalker 3) - Page 205

Rory was lounging in the hostel’s parlor with a mug of beer in one hand and a dozing toddler on his lap as he charmed the woman who ran the place. With her ash-blonde hair and skin the color of milk, she looked as if her ancestors had lived in this region since before the Romans came.

“Where is Bee?” I asked.

He waggled his eyebrows. “She went for a walk, though I begged her to wait until you returned. Maestra Artia says there’s been a dreadful epidemic at the New Academy.”

“All the pupils were sent home!” The woman was eager to tell the tale again. “When my husband’s cousin’s wife’s nephew went to deliver a wagonload of turnips and onions in his usual way, he was turned back from the gate by that strange young man who looks like a ghostly spirit. Several of the servants have died. On no account is anyone to enter the grounds.”

“What of the headmaster?”

“A high and mighty nobleman, they say, though I never saw him. He lingers on his deathbed!”

“How frightful!” I exclaimed, and seeing that she was not likely to leave the room without provocation, I surreptitiously pinched the toddler so hard the poor child woke up wailing.

After she apologetically carried off the screaming baby, Rory turned on me. “Cat! How could you? He peed on my arm!”

“Bee won’t be able to stop herself from poking her nose in a little farther. I’m going after her. You must lie low until we return.” I explained the situation.

“How can they wish to shoot me? They don’t even know me!”

“Go wash your jacket. Stay alert and stay inside.”

I walked out of town on the old Roman road that led south along the river to the city of Colonia. For once it was pleasant to have only my own thoughts for company. As much as I loved Vai and trusted his strength and loyalty, Bee had been right: He was not always a restful person to be with. Bee was not a restful person either, but my heart could never truly be at peace unless I knew she was safe, and I wasn’t ever wholly happy except when she was near. I hurried, eager to reach her.

At the third mile marker I reached a large estate. A towering hedge blocked my view of the land. I passed a massive iron gate closed across a pretty lane lined by evergreen cypress trees. The drive cut through landscaped grounds to a distant compound house set back by the river. On the opposite side of the gate, the impenetrable hedge gave way to a row of larger cypress grown close enough to block the view toward the river.

“Cat! Here!” Bee peeked through cypress branches.

I hopped over the roadside ditch and shoved through the branches. Before I could inform her of what an idiot she was to go tramping off without me, she dragged me out of sight behind the cypress. Inside the estate grounds, we hid in a copse of trees of white-barked alder, ringed by yet more cypress. The trees concealed a set of marble benches whose bases were carved with what I first took for serpents and then realized depicted swimming dragons with tapered wings, elongated muzzles, and smoky breath.

“Why didn’t you wait for me?” I demanded. “Any terrible calamity could have befallen you! Anyway, I’m so aggravated, Bee, because nothing is going as planned!”

She listened as I explained what had happened. “I trust you did not suffer any mistreatment while staying overnight there!”

Sadly, I blushed, thinking of how we had started on the bed and ended on the table.

“Not that I need hear any details!” she said, laughing. “I have come to agree with the Romans in this. An excess of passion is clearly the sign of a undisciplined mind.”

“Vai is not undisciplined!”

She smiled in the manner of a general contemplating sweet victory. “I wasn’t talking about him.”

In the distance dogs began barking, a clamor that built to a frantic yipping. We leaped to our feet.

“Fiery Shemesh!” Bee exclaimed. “I thought we would be safely hidden here!”

A huge dog with teeth bared charged through the trees, followed by a slavering pack of equally gigantic hounds. They erupted into a deafening frenzy of yips and barks as they surrounded us. I brandished my cane, wishing desperately that it were a sword.

s a comforting thought, soon succeeded by annoyance as I dodged out of the way of wheeled vehicles and hurried onto quieter lanes behind a man pushing a wheelbarrow full of bricks.

Gracious Melqart! Andevai’s high-handed style really did display him in a most unflattering light. Four Moons House had a lot to answer for in its treatment of him, but he was not innocent of fault. His vanity dovetailed with his pride to make arrogance easy for him. Yet his plan had worked. Now he could keep them off guard with raging and sulking until Bee and I completed our business.

Rory was lounging in the hostel’s parlor with a mug of beer in one hand and a dozing toddler on his lap as he charmed the woman who ran the place. With her ash-blonde hair and skin the color of milk, she looked as if her ancestors had lived in this region since before the Romans came.

“Where is Bee?” I asked.

He waggled his eyebrows. “She went for a walk, though I begged her to wait until you returned. Maestra Artia says there’s been a dreadful epidemic at the New Academy.”

“All the pupils were sent home!” The woman was eager to tell the tale again. “When my husband’s cousin’s wife’s nephew went to deliver a wagonload of turnips and onions in his usual way, he was turned back from the gate by that strange young man who looks like a ghostly spirit. Several of the servants have died. On no account is anyone to enter the grounds.”

Tags: Kate Elliott Spiritwalker Fantasy
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