Read Online Dead Letter by Benjamin Descovich - Free Book Online Page B

the chatter of foraging hens on a fox free
island. Such things would ground her in the corporeal world. The
Isle of Solitude was a temple to the magical arts, a place where
you fused with the magical weave that permeated everything.
Calimska was a frustration of bustle and distraction. How did a
city mage connect to the weave in such a place? They must block the
noise somehow. She would have to find comfort in the good of the
city. Kettna leaned out the window, marvelling at the bustle of so
many men and women heading for their guildhalls or places of work.
Others hung washing from their windows on lines that bridged
between the side streets.
    There
was a polite rapping at the door.
    “ Who is it?” called Kettna from the window.
    “ Sorry to disturb you, Mistress,” came the voice of the
innkeep. “Breakfast is ready in the common room, should you require
it.”
    What did
he mean by that? Did the innkeep think mages lived on mystic
berries? She was famished. “I shall be down shortly.”
    “ At your leisure, Mistress.” Rimple knocked on the doors of
the other rooms, repeating his call to breakfast, before the creaky
stairs groaned his retreat.
    Kettna
removed her slip and donned her novice robes, keen to get her
meeting with the Constable done. Before that she had to discover
Mertin’s whereabouts. The innkeep had promised to make some
enquiries on her behalf. In preparation for a day of walking,
Kettna lightened her load, removing her clothes to the drawer and
shelving her books. With her component belt, purse and satchel, she
was ready to confront her future in the city.
    Opening
her door, she was greeted by the quiet conversation of the twins as
they left their own rooms in unison. “Sleep well,
guildermen?”
    They
nodded and followed her to the common room. Adept Lanuille was
already downstairs at their table, drinking bitter black and
arranging a deck of cards upon the table.
    “ Do you read cards?” jested Kettna. “Isn’t that a bit quaint
for an adept?”
    “ No, I’m not reading them. If I could, I’d figure out why I’m
losing the game.”
    “ I’ve not seen it before. What’s it called?”
    “ Smite and Bluff. You can run the hands alone, if you can’t
find any players.”
    “ I think I saw some old folk playing that when I took the
twins for a run into the Cauldron yesterday afternoon.”
    Lanuille
gave her a half smile. “Are you calling me old, Novice?”
    “ Not at all. It looks like fun. You should teach me
tonight.”
    “ I’d like that. It would be nice to have a game against
someone other than myself.”
    Lanuille
was so changeable. She could be warm and welcoming when she spoke
with Kettna, yet so cold when another entered the conversation.
Last night she had been so hard on the staff and derisive of the
kitchen hand. The sorceress was suspicious of all comers. Kettna
guessed that was a good trait to have as a guardian, if Lanuille
was only looking out for her. The Adept’s late night
    “ Have you been up long?” asked Kettna.
    “ I didn’t sleep well.”
    Moonlight prowling was hard work. “Didn’t sleep so well
myself. I heard you up at odd hours.”
    “ I set wards after closing time. Something tripped them in the
night.”
    “ What do you mean something?”
    “ A cat, I’d say. Though a dog or a large rat might have
managed it. I don’t know for sure. There was nobody outside when I
went to investigate.”
    “ You warded the Inn? Is there a threat I should know about?”
What was going on here?
    “ Calm yourself, Novice. It’s only a precaution. I’m not
worried about a stray animal, nor should you be.”
    “ Of course. You’re right. My dreams have shaken me and my
stomach is growling. Have you eaten yet?”
    “ No. My black is fine for now. The morning does not encourage
my appetite, or perhaps it is the offerings of our
host.”
    Kettna
walked over to the buffet and took a flatcake onto her plate,
scooping on a dollop of rosella jam. She spread it