Read Online Bound by Blood and Sand by Becky Allen - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Becky Allen
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a cheerful, obviously false, smile. “That’s the fountain. It’s still there. It seems to have been built by mages, just like the house.”
“So it
can’t
have been moved since the War,” Elan realized. “Then—then I need to go look at it.”
Lady Shirrad’s pleasant, polite smile didn’t waver this time. “Of course, Lord Elan. I don’t think we’ll be able to move
that
anywhere, though, when you leave Aredann.”
She led him to the courtyard, and he tried to memorize the way as they walked. The house at Aredann wasn’t nearly as large as the ones the mages had built around the enormous reservoirs where he’d grown up, but he still needed to learn which corridors connected to which wings. The sitting room they’d left was central enough that he’d gotten turned around and didn’t know which way led toward the garden.
When he stepped into the courtyard, he realized that it was a little silly to examine the fountain now after all. It was dark out, and though the moon was bright enough, everything was shadowed. It would be easy to miss details.
The fountain itself was impossible to miss, though. It towered over everything, silver-white in the moonlight, bright enough that it was almost a light in and of itself—bright enough that his eye caught on something at its base.
“Lady—Lady, look!” He crossed to it, crouched down, and caught his breath.
Lady Shirrad joined him, her eyes widening in surprise. A single flower, bright purple and delicate, was growing at the fountain’s base. There was no grass around it, nothing but sand and stones. Elan put his fingers to the ground, and they came back dry and dirty, not damp. But this flower was just like the one in the mosaic—and it was alive, which was impossible. It needed water to grow, and he hadn’t noticed it the previous night, when he’d first glanced around the miserable little courtyard.
“The Closest,” he said. “The one who tends the grounds—Jae. I need to speak to her immediately.”
Once again, Jae woke to Tal shaking her. The room was only lit by a torch, which threw strange shadows that distorted Tal’s features, deepening his frown into something frightening.
“You’re awake,” he finally said, and let out a deep breath. “I was starting to worry.”
“Everything still hurts,” she said, answering his unspoken questions. She squinted at the dim light, then screwed her eyes shut. Even that was too much. Her head ached from the effort of looking at Tal. She tried to roll over, away from him, but her whole body seized, throbbing, and she fell back on the mat, eyes squeezed shut as tears formed. “I don’t…don’t understand,” she mumbled, her heartbeat echoing in her ears. “I didn’t disobey or…I don’t know what I
did
.”
“You must have done something,” he said, and reached for her hands. “Because Lord Elan just summoned you. He sent Lady Shirrad herself, but she found me first. But it’s definitely you he asked for.”
Now
her eyes flew open and she stared at him in horror. “He…But I didn’t…”
“He’s waiting for you in the garden, and he wanted you to hurry. I wanted to explain that you’re ill, but…”
But Lady Shirrad wouldn’t have asked, so Tal couldn’t have said anything—and even if he
had
managed to speak, it wasn’t as if anyone would care that Jae could barely move. Jae grimaced and nodded. That set her head spinning, and it got worse when Tal hauled her up to sit, as if someone were smashing her head with a stone, over and over—but at least that was familiar. She had an order to obey, and the Curse had no pity for traitors. It didn’t matter that she’d had some kind of fainting spell, or whatever it was that had knocked her flat. She didn’t even know what had happened, could only remember a flash of shining stone and the moon, and fleeting, muddled images of faces and flowers. Whatever she’d dreamed was fading as she woke.
At least the focused pain of
“So it
can’t
have been moved since the War,” Elan realized. “Then—then I need to go look at it.”
Lady Shirrad’s pleasant, polite smile didn’t waver this time. “Of course, Lord Elan. I don’t think we’ll be able to move
that
anywhere, though, when you leave Aredann.”
She led him to the courtyard, and he tried to memorize the way as they walked. The house at Aredann wasn’t nearly as large as the ones the mages had built around the enormous reservoirs where he’d grown up, but he still needed to learn which corridors connected to which wings. The sitting room they’d left was central enough that he’d gotten turned around and didn’t know which way led toward the garden.
When he stepped into the courtyard, he realized that it was a little silly to examine the fountain now after all. It was dark out, and though the moon was bright enough, everything was shadowed. It would be easy to miss details.
The fountain itself was impossible to miss, though. It towered over everything, silver-white in the moonlight, bright enough that it was almost a light in and of itself—bright enough that his eye caught on something at its base.
“Lady—Lady, look!” He crossed to it, crouched down, and caught his breath.
Lady Shirrad joined him, her eyes widening in surprise. A single flower, bright purple and delicate, was growing at the fountain’s base. There was no grass around it, nothing but sand and stones. Elan put his fingers to the ground, and they came back dry and dirty, not damp. But this flower was just like the one in the mosaic—and it was alive, which was impossible. It needed water to grow, and he hadn’t noticed it the previous night, when he’d first glanced around the miserable little courtyard.
“The Closest,” he said. “The one who tends the grounds—Jae. I need to speak to her immediately.”
Once again, Jae woke to Tal shaking her. The room was only lit by a torch, which threw strange shadows that distorted Tal’s features, deepening his frown into something frightening.
“You’re awake,” he finally said, and let out a deep breath. “I was starting to worry.”
“Everything still hurts,” she said, answering his unspoken questions. She squinted at the dim light, then screwed her eyes shut. Even that was too much. Her head ached from the effort of looking at Tal. She tried to roll over, away from him, but her whole body seized, throbbing, and she fell back on the mat, eyes squeezed shut as tears formed. “I don’t…don’t understand,” she mumbled, her heartbeat echoing in her ears. “I didn’t disobey or…I don’t know what I
did
.”
“You must have done something,” he said, and reached for her hands. “Because Lord Elan just summoned you. He sent Lady Shirrad herself, but she found me first. But it’s definitely you he asked for.”
Now
her eyes flew open and she stared at him in horror. “He…But I didn’t…”
“He’s waiting for you in the garden, and he wanted you to hurry. I wanted to explain that you’re ill, but…”
But Lady Shirrad wouldn’t have asked, so Tal couldn’t have said anything—and even if he
had
managed to speak, it wasn’t as if anyone would care that Jae could barely move. Jae grimaced and nodded. That set her head spinning, and it got worse when Tal hauled her up to sit, as if someone were smashing her head with a stone, over and over—but at least that was familiar. She had an order to obey, and the Curse had no pity for traitors. It didn’t matter that she’d had some kind of fainting spell, or whatever it was that had knocked her flat. She didn’t even know what had happened, could only remember a flash of shining stone and the moon, and fleeting, muddled images of faces and flowers. Whatever she’d dreamed was fading as she woke.
At least the focused pain of
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