Read Online Fire Hawk by Justine Dare Justine Davis - Free Book Online Page B

mean he has forgotten how.”
    Her brows furrowed. “You are being obscure again.”
    The storyteller smiled. “You are a very clever girl, Jenna. You will reason it out.”
    Her mouth twisted doubtfully. The fire flared up suddenly, and she looked that way. For a moment she gazed at it as if the answer were hidden somewhere in the dancing flames.
    When she looked up again, the storyteller was gone. She had no sense of rousing from a dream, no sudden start of awakening. The fire had returned to normal and he was simply gone. And she was not sure she was any better off than she had been before.
    It took her until morning to work out what the storyteller had meant.
    KANE BLINKED, squinting against the morning sun as he looked at Tal.
    “Aren’t you . . . grayer than you were yesterday?”
    Tal looked up quickly. “Grayer?”
    “Your hair. ’Tis distinctly grayer.”
    Tal’s eyes rolled upward as if he could see his tousled locks. He grasped a strand of hair and pulled it in front of his eyes, fruitlessly since it happened to be a dark strand. At last he reached for the dagger sheathed at his narrow waist, and peered at himself in the polished blade.
    “Damnation,” he muttered. “I never could get that right.”
    He ran a hand over his hair, brow furrowed as if in great concentration. He repeated the motion. And peered into the blade again. And sighed.
    “It will never be as it was again. I should have paid more attention to that lesson.”
    Kane stared at his friend, who seemed to suddenly be reminded of his presence. He gave Kane a wary look. His hair, Kane noticed, was back to normal, at least the normal he was used to seeing; raven dark shot with moonlight silver. He said nothing, only looked.
    “ ’Twas merely the light,” Tal said.
    “Of course,” Kane said.
    Tal looked surprised at having his own common phrase turned back on him. After a moment he grinned widely. Despite himself, Kane smiled back. He’d had a more restful night than he would have believed possible; most times when the visions came, it took days for the effect to wear off.
    But they’d never hit him when Tal was around before.
    “So,” Tal said cheerfully, “do you believe your flame-haired visitor has given up by now?”
    “I can but hope,” Kane said wryly.
    “She seemed . . . quite determined.”
    “She is.”
    “What will you do if she is still there when you return?”
    Kane sighed. “I don’t know.”
    Tal looked thoughtful. “Perhaps you could simply frighten her away. You’re intimidating enough.”
    “I don’t intimidate you,” Kane pointed out.
    “That’s different. I know you won’t damage me.”
    “You do, do you?” Kane said mildly.
    “I do.” That certainty again.
    “Has anyone ever told you that habit of yours is quite . . . irksome?”
    Tal laughed. “Many.”
    Kane’s mouth twisted. “And it had little effect, I see.” Tal shrugged. Kane sighed again. “She may be young, but she is no shorter on courage than you, my friend. I doubt she’ll give up easily. Unless I can determine what would frighten her, I fear myself doomed to endless importunings.”
    “I leave that to you. I must find Maud. That silly bird has flitted off somewhere, no doubt to wreak havoc on some unsuspecting innocent.”
    Kane watched as Tal gathered his few belongings, rolled them up in the blanket Kane had slept in, fastened them with a strap he then slung over his shoulder, and turned to go.
    “Tal?”
    He looked back.
    “Thank you.”
    Tal smiled, a gentle smile quite unlike his usual mocking grin. “Good luck, my friend. Whatever you decide to do.”
    He vanished into the woods as if they had welcomed him with open arms and the trees had folded around him protectively.
    Whatever he decided to do.
    What could he do? He could not help her. No matter how she might pester, no matter how tenacious she might be, last night had proven beyond a doubt that he could not take up weapons again. Yet she refused to