Read Online The Restless Shore by James P. Davis - Free Book Online

a too-sudden motion.. “I’d have to remember
    when I wasn’t drunk before to be drunk again.”
    Her gestures shook loose one of the pouches she wore, spilling its contents. Coins clattered to the floor. Tessaeril knelt and picked up several coins bearing stamps of different cities and nations. Ghaelya rolled her eyes, cursing herself for not securing her purse more tightly.
    “Stealing as well,* Tessaeril said. “For fun? Or are you trying to get arrested just to mortify mother?”
    “Come now, Tess,” Ghaelya began and pushed past her sister. She flopped down in an overstuffed chair of the greeting room. “If I stood still in a boring room and spoke not a single word, I could mortify mother.”
    Tessaeril dropped the coins and stood over Ghaelya. She pulled a blanket over her drunken sister’s shoulders and knelt down to catch her half-lidded gaze. Ghaelya stared back into eyes that mirrored her own; the face, framed by tongues of dancing flame, was her twin, though the person behind the stare was a far away day to her deep night.
    At one time they’d shared everything; often it seemed even their thoughts and dreams were mirrored in one another.
    “I worry about you,” Tessaeril said. “I worry that some night you won’t come home, and I’ll be left here alone.”
    “Well, I worry every night that I’ll end up back home and become stuck here,” Ghaelya replied more angrily than she’d intended. She noticed the thin chain of blue silver around Tessaeril’s neck, a present Ghaelya had bought from a Branestrian merchant. But dangling from the end was a small metal seashell, the symbol of the Choir. Ghaelya reached out, tapping the shell clumsily. “And if you had any sense at all you’d worry the same thing. By the gods Tess! Leave me be or sing me to sleep! No, wait, don’t sing… Please don’t sing….”
    Her vision faded. The last things she saw were her sister’s eyes, filling with tears and turning away. As darkness
    claimed her, Ghaelya weakly promised that she’d apologize in the morning—a promise broken before the sun rose.
    “**-** s
    7Mirtul, the Year of the Ageless One (1479 DR) The Spur Forest, South of Airspur, Akanul
    Ghaelya cursed as they pressed into the thicker trees, feeling like an ogre among her more surefooted companions. Thorns gripped her leather armor; bushes snapped loudly as she pulled free. Her footfalls were so loud, the whole valley might have heard them. Several times, lit by the glow of Vaasurri’s lantern, Uthalion cast an annoyed glance her way. Though he said nothing out loud, he truly didn’t have to.
    She breathed a sigh of relief when they crossed a swift stream, following its current. The cool water flowed soundlessly around her calves, carrying her along as though she were a part of its course. Soon back in the forest, with long vines brushing her face and spiderwebs glowing in Vaasurri’s light, she shivered and watched expectantly for the Spur to end. Trees shivered in a sudden breeze, bringing the forest to brief life. Stars glinted through the leafy canopy and danced in a multitude of sparkling reflections.
    Uthalion stopped, holding up a cautious hand as Vaasurri turned in a slow circle and lowered his lantern to the ground. Brindani joined them, kneeling around the edge of a circle of freshly churned soil. Roots jutted from the edges, saplings had been torn from the ground, and pale worms squirmed through the soft earth. The look on the killoren’s face was not encouraging when he stood away from the sunken area.
    “We need to move faster—” he began, then his emerald gaze shot forward, widening in alarm.
    A splash echoed through the night, a deep, heavy splash as if a boulder had been dropped from the sky. Ghaelya whipped around, trying to remember just how far back the stream they had crossed was. Her hand drifted to her sword, and she felt foolish even considering the tiny weapon against whatever had caused the sound.
    Something rumbled and