Read Online Eyes of the Alchemist by Janet Woods - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Janet Woods
Tags: fantasy romance
Ads: Link
the race of goosebumps against her skin.
Dirt was dissolved by the application of scented sap of a wax flower. She started on her hair, massaging the sap to the roots until it foamed. When her hair squeaked with cleanliness she rinsed it, and standing, flicked the wet slick back over her head in a glittering arc of droplets. Every part of her was tingling and alive, as if her body sang a sweet melody.
The forest provided her with a sparse handful of nuts to eat, though she had to search for them. She found no fruit. She didn’t linger there very long and stayed on the outskirts. The dark interior hinted at danger, and the well-worn tracks might have been made by animals. It occurred to her that there might be better pickings further in, but she had no intention of exploring the interior until she’d studied it first. It was a pity her Pitilan couldn’t speak.
The sun was warm and a breeze teased the abundance of grasses. A touch of humidity made the air pleasant to breathe as she wove a short rope from the pliable fronds of grass and reeds she’d laid out to dry. Her intention was to weave a basket for her medicines. Already she’d discovered some pitcher plants that would be useful as containers when dried by the sun. This was indeed a land of promise and plenty. Once she found shelter she could stay indefinitely, and Atarta would protect her from danger.
“But how can you fulfill your purpose, and who will you heal if you stay here?” she asked herself a little later, thankful that the antidote for the Pitilan venom was safely in her pocket instead of back on Truarc in her sack. She’d never had to milk Atarta’s glands for it, and imagined it would be a messy and unpleasant business.
For part of the day she engaged in a fruitless search for shelter, then, growing bored, she kept watch on all that went on below. Pennants fluttered from the four towers of the manor, purple and black with a silver crescent moon. They seemed to be Kavan’s colors.
The crenulated walls of the manor were patrolled, the troopers using large magnifying telescopes to survey the skies and surrounding countryside. From what threat they guarded the population in this land of plenty she couldn’t imagine.
Inside the manor walls was a world of color and excitement. Drums beat, trumpets blared, and the troopers marched back and forth, or fought each other with practice swords. She searched the landscape for a sight of the portal, but to no avail. The land below the fall was thickly vegetated, it hid its secrets well.
In the town beyond the manor walls all was bustling. There seemed to be some sort of market place, and the sound of hawkers selling their wares carried clearly to her.
“Bread, straight from the baker’s oven.”
“Buy my wine, nectar of the Gods made from the finest grapes grown on Cabrilan.”
“Fish ... fresh fish,” and Tiana - who’d tasted only dried fish, and remembered the taste of the sweet, juicy grapes her mother Lynx had given her, felt her mouth begin to water and her stomach growl. She could almost smell the hot, doughy fragrance of the bread, though she couldn’t remember ever having it straight from the oven.
She’d half-expected Kavan to visit, but night came without incident. The disappointment she felt was dismissed as vanity. Surely she could not be desirous of his company and attention. She put him from her mind, concentrating instead on making herself comfortable for the night. Though she’d searched in vain for a suitable shelter that day, no hiding place had been visible in the rock. She’d have to rely on her images to keep her safe and warm until her instinct lent her the courage to venture into the forest. She might be able to gather branches and fashion a hut of sorts if nothing else occurred to her.
She could try out the wishing dish!
Her glance fell on its protective box. Rowena had told her she could wish for anything she wanted. A manor like Kavan’s perhaps, with an army of
Dirt was dissolved by the application of scented sap of a wax flower. She started on her hair, massaging the sap to the roots until it foamed. When her hair squeaked with cleanliness she rinsed it, and standing, flicked the wet slick back over her head in a glittering arc of droplets. Every part of her was tingling and alive, as if her body sang a sweet melody.
The forest provided her with a sparse handful of nuts to eat, though she had to search for them. She found no fruit. She didn’t linger there very long and stayed on the outskirts. The dark interior hinted at danger, and the well-worn tracks might have been made by animals. It occurred to her that there might be better pickings further in, but she had no intention of exploring the interior until she’d studied it first. It was a pity her Pitilan couldn’t speak.
The sun was warm and a breeze teased the abundance of grasses. A touch of humidity made the air pleasant to breathe as she wove a short rope from the pliable fronds of grass and reeds she’d laid out to dry. Her intention was to weave a basket for her medicines. Already she’d discovered some pitcher plants that would be useful as containers when dried by the sun. This was indeed a land of promise and plenty. Once she found shelter she could stay indefinitely, and Atarta would protect her from danger.
“But how can you fulfill your purpose, and who will you heal if you stay here?” she asked herself a little later, thankful that the antidote for the Pitilan venom was safely in her pocket instead of back on Truarc in her sack. She’d never had to milk Atarta’s glands for it, and imagined it would be a messy and unpleasant business.
For part of the day she engaged in a fruitless search for shelter, then, growing bored, she kept watch on all that went on below. Pennants fluttered from the four towers of the manor, purple and black with a silver crescent moon. They seemed to be Kavan’s colors.
The crenulated walls of the manor were patrolled, the troopers using large magnifying telescopes to survey the skies and surrounding countryside. From what threat they guarded the population in this land of plenty she couldn’t imagine.
Inside the manor walls was a world of color and excitement. Drums beat, trumpets blared, and the troopers marched back and forth, or fought each other with practice swords. She searched the landscape for a sight of the portal, but to no avail. The land below the fall was thickly vegetated, it hid its secrets well.
In the town beyond the manor walls all was bustling. There seemed to be some sort of market place, and the sound of hawkers selling their wares carried clearly to her.
“Bread, straight from the baker’s oven.”
“Buy my wine, nectar of the Gods made from the finest grapes grown on Cabrilan.”
“Fish ... fresh fish,” and Tiana - who’d tasted only dried fish, and remembered the taste of the sweet, juicy grapes her mother Lynx had given her, felt her mouth begin to water and her stomach growl. She could almost smell the hot, doughy fragrance of the bread, though she couldn’t remember ever having it straight from the oven.
She’d half-expected Kavan to visit, but night came without incident. The disappointment she felt was dismissed as vanity. Surely she could not be desirous of his company and attention. She put him from her mind, concentrating instead on making herself comfortable for the night. Though she’d searched in vain for a suitable shelter that day, no hiding place had been visible in the rock. She’d have to rely on her images to keep her safe and warm until her instinct lent her the courage to venture into the forest. She might be able to gather branches and fashion a hut of sorts if nothing else occurred to her.
She could try out the wishing dish!
Her glance fell on its protective box. Rowena had told her she could wish for anything she wanted. A manor like Kavan’s perhaps, with an army of
Similar Books
