Read Online Magic Under Stone by Jaclyn Dolamore - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jaclyn Dolamore
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“Remember how he sent his sons off to bring him gifts?”
“Oh ... do you think ...?”
They spoke as if he were not even present, or as if he were not aperson—the same way all people treated jinn, as he had quickly discovered with the handful of masters he had served thus far. A more experienced jinn would take no interest in the situation around him, would have no care for these women, or King Luka, or Erris Tanharrow. But Ifra hated to think he would become like that.
“You’re correct,” Ifra said. “The king’s son Belin found my lamp.”
The women turned their attention back to him, a little nervously. He supposed he must seem very foreign in their small cottage, with his gold cuffs and earrings, the woven sash belting his tunic and leather boots of home, the straight black hair that fell halfway down his back, caught with a leather tie.
“Can you tell me anything about King Luka?” Ifra asked. “And Erris Tanharrow? I must do the king’s bidding, but nevertheless there are things I can do to shape circumstances ... if I understood them better.”
The women shared a glance, and the dark-haired one shrugged a little. “The Tanharrow family has ruled the fairy throne for centuries, through many wars with the humans. The city folk have always been different, with their glamours and feasts and fancy things, but they took care of us. If there was a long winter, we could go to the capital and ask for magic to help our patch of the forest survive, and if the humans came onto our territory, they’d send a patrol.”
The red-haired women nodded. “We’re supposed to trust our king. It’s said that as long as trees grow in the Hall of Oak and Ash, all is well. The wisdom of the trees is supposed to reflect upon our ruler. But ...”
“I don’t understand what King Luka is trying to do with the humans,” the dark-haired one said. “After the last war, he gave the humans far too much leeway. Any fool could have told himthey’d take advantage, and now he wants to go to war with them again. Disaster all around, and he brought it upon himself.”
“King Luka says there won’t be peace until he’s wiped the humans off the continent,” Ifra said.
“Or they destroy us!” the red-haired woman cried out. “That’s how it will go, if we pursue war!” The little girl’s eyes widened. Alarm crossed the woman’s flushed face. “I’ve said too much.”
“I’m not going to report any of this back to him,” Ifra said. Unless he asks ... I can’t really lie to him . But hopefully Luka would have no reason to ask. “I’m very grateful for your hospitality.” He bowed to them. “My name is Ifra, by the way.”
“Keyelle,” said the red-haired woman.
“I’m Etana. And this is my little one, Sery. Keyelle’s brother was my partner, but we had a dispute about this very thing. He supports King Luka.”
She frowned and turned to the shelf that held the kitchen implements, wooden bowls, and plates, and began setting the table. She looked cross, probably at herself, for speaking freely to someone she didn’t know.
“King Luka is ill, you know,” Ifra said.
“Ill?” Keyelle looked skeptical. “I haven’t heard.”
Ifra knew he shouldn’t speak freely with her either, but he wanted to gain her trust and as much information as he could. But more than that, he simply wanted someone to talk to. The isolation of a jinn’s life was hard to bear. He told them everything he had seen in the capital—the way Luka looked beneath his glamour, his sons, Luka’s coy answer about what he would do with Erris once he found him. The women listened, obviously rapt, but all the while they worked in silent harmony—cleaning, moving,arranging, stirring—preparing for dinner, answering a question Sery whispered in their ears.
Ifra soaked in the warmth of the place, hoping he could store the feeling. When the stew was done, Etana brought it to the table. Sery settled into her chair, holding
“Remember how he sent his sons off to bring him gifts?”
“Oh ... do you think ...?”
They spoke as if he were not even present, or as if he were not aperson—the same way all people treated jinn, as he had quickly discovered with the handful of masters he had served thus far. A more experienced jinn would take no interest in the situation around him, would have no care for these women, or King Luka, or Erris Tanharrow. But Ifra hated to think he would become like that.
“You’re correct,” Ifra said. “The king’s son Belin found my lamp.”
The women turned their attention back to him, a little nervously. He supposed he must seem very foreign in their small cottage, with his gold cuffs and earrings, the woven sash belting his tunic and leather boots of home, the straight black hair that fell halfway down his back, caught with a leather tie.
“Can you tell me anything about King Luka?” Ifra asked. “And Erris Tanharrow? I must do the king’s bidding, but nevertheless there are things I can do to shape circumstances ... if I understood them better.”
The women shared a glance, and the dark-haired one shrugged a little. “The Tanharrow family has ruled the fairy throne for centuries, through many wars with the humans. The city folk have always been different, with their glamours and feasts and fancy things, but they took care of us. If there was a long winter, we could go to the capital and ask for magic to help our patch of the forest survive, and if the humans came onto our territory, they’d send a patrol.”
The red-haired women nodded. “We’re supposed to trust our king. It’s said that as long as trees grow in the Hall of Oak and Ash, all is well. The wisdom of the trees is supposed to reflect upon our ruler. But ...”
“I don’t understand what King Luka is trying to do with the humans,” the dark-haired one said. “After the last war, he gave the humans far too much leeway. Any fool could have told himthey’d take advantage, and now he wants to go to war with them again. Disaster all around, and he brought it upon himself.”
“King Luka says there won’t be peace until he’s wiped the humans off the continent,” Ifra said.
“Or they destroy us!” the red-haired woman cried out. “That’s how it will go, if we pursue war!” The little girl’s eyes widened. Alarm crossed the woman’s flushed face. “I’ve said too much.”
“I’m not going to report any of this back to him,” Ifra said. Unless he asks ... I can’t really lie to him . But hopefully Luka would have no reason to ask. “I’m very grateful for your hospitality.” He bowed to them. “My name is Ifra, by the way.”
“Keyelle,” said the red-haired woman.
“I’m Etana. And this is my little one, Sery. Keyelle’s brother was my partner, but we had a dispute about this very thing. He supports King Luka.”
She frowned and turned to the shelf that held the kitchen implements, wooden bowls, and plates, and began setting the table. She looked cross, probably at herself, for speaking freely to someone she didn’t know.
“King Luka is ill, you know,” Ifra said.
“Ill?” Keyelle looked skeptical. “I haven’t heard.”
Ifra knew he shouldn’t speak freely with her either, but he wanted to gain her trust and as much information as he could. But more than that, he simply wanted someone to talk to. The isolation of a jinn’s life was hard to bear. He told them everything he had seen in the capital—the way Luka looked beneath his glamour, his sons, Luka’s coy answer about what he would do with Erris once he found him. The women listened, obviously rapt, but all the while they worked in silent harmony—cleaning, moving,arranging, stirring—preparing for dinner, answering a question Sery whispered in their ears.
Ifra soaked in the warmth of the place, hoping he could store the feeling. When the stew was done, Etana brought it to the table. Sery settled into her chair, holding
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