Read Online Morgain's Revenge by Laura Anne Gilman - Free Book Online
Authors: Laura Anne Gilman
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from surprised hostility to curiosity.
She wished that Newt were there with her. He grew up with beasts—dogs and horses, admittedly. But he dealt well with the dragon they had encountered, under that same beastish logic. And that dragon had been a thinking, speaking creature!
“Do you…can you speak?” she asked it. Best to be polite, rather than risk offending a creature that could tear her flesh with one pounce. The great clawed forepaws twitched, but the creature did not make another noise.
“That might be a no, then. Or it might be that you’re choosing not to speak. Which is it?”
The beast shifted to follow her movements, and Ailis jumped back, stumbling and hitting her shoulder against the wall in her surprise. Not because the creature moved, but because of what that movement revealed.
Wings. Great, thick-feathered wings, folded against the plush fur of its body.
“Aren’t you lovely!” she exclaimed.
“Rrrrrr?” Ailis took the sound to mean that although the beast might not be able to speak with its beak, it understood her words. Or at least her intentions.
“Such a lovely creature,” she said, keeping her voice modulated normally, not resorting to the high-pitched tones some of the ladies of the court used when speaking to their lapdogs. Those whines annoyed her, and she couldn’t imagine it wouldn’t annoy a creature with the acute hearing of a bird.
“May I pet you? I promise not to muss your feathers.”
The beast watched her, then lowered its head to the floor, resting its beak on the carpet. One eye kept watch on Ailis but the gesture seemed a clear invitation, so she took a step closer, then another, until she was close enough to reach out and touch the golden pelt.
The fur was thick and rougher than she had been expecting, but warm and pliant, the muscles underneath flexing and relaxing under her touch.
“Oh, you are such a lovely. Are there any others like you? I have heard of dragons and bridge trolls, and everyone has heard of unicorns, of course. But I’ve never heard of anything like you.”
And then she noticed it at the same moment she felt it vibrating under her hand. A massive purr rumbled up from deep within the creature. Delighted laughter filled her throat and for the first time indays, perhaps weeks, Ailis felt totally relaxed and happy.
“Are you magic?” she asked it. “Of course you must be; you’re a magical beast. But are you magic to cause such happiness with such a simple sound?”
The beast sighed, shifting slightly as though to lean more into her touch, and kept purring.
“No, I can’t stay here all day and pet you, silly thing.”
Why not? a small voice in her head asked; not the voice she had become somewhat used to hearing, of Merlin giving advice. But a more familiar one—of self-doubt and second-guessing. Why shouldn’t she stay here? Surely they could not call this an attempt to escape, not if she was found with a beast clearly belonging to Morgain. And it would be difficult to feel bored or trapped in the company of such a happy purr. And think of how much you would enjoy telling Newt about it. He would be so jealous, not to have met—
And that thought stopped any inclination to stay put. How could she tell Newt anything while trapped in Morgain’s castle? No one knew where she was or who had taken her, or that Morgain had been inside Camelot to start with. Nobody would be coming to save her. If she wanted to do more than grow oldinside her gilded cage then she had to find answers for herself.
“I’m sorry, lovely. But I have to go.”
She stepped away, watching carefully to make sure that the beast did not take offense, and looked around to explore more of the chamber they were in. It was a round room with high ceilings, and three sets of wooden doors; the ones she had come through were carved with dragons, the ones to her left had sleek cats entwined in play, and the ones to her right had flames wrapped around twined
She wished that Newt were there with her. He grew up with beasts—dogs and horses, admittedly. But he dealt well with the dragon they had encountered, under that same beastish logic. And that dragon had been a thinking, speaking creature!
“Do you…can you speak?” she asked it. Best to be polite, rather than risk offending a creature that could tear her flesh with one pounce. The great clawed forepaws twitched, but the creature did not make another noise.
“That might be a no, then. Or it might be that you’re choosing not to speak. Which is it?”
The beast shifted to follow her movements, and Ailis jumped back, stumbling and hitting her shoulder against the wall in her surprise. Not because the creature moved, but because of what that movement revealed.
Wings. Great, thick-feathered wings, folded against the plush fur of its body.
“Aren’t you lovely!” she exclaimed.
“Rrrrrr?” Ailis took the sound to mean that although the beast might not be able to speak with its beak, it understood her words. Or at least her intentions.
“Such a lovely creature,” she said, keeping her voice modulated normally, not resorting to the high-pitched tones some of the ladies of the court used when speaking to their lapdogs. Those whines annoyed her, and she couldn’t imagine it wouldn’t annoy a creature with the acute hearing of a bird.
“May I pet you? I promise not to muss your feathers.”
The beast watched her, then lowered its head to the floor, resting its beak on the carpet. One eye kept watch on Ailis but the gesture seemed a clear invitation, so she took a step closer, then another, until she was close enough to reach out and touch the golden pelt.
The fur was thick and rougher than she had been expecting, but warm and pliant, the muscles underneath flexing and relaxing under her touch.
“Oh, you are such a lovely. Are there any others like you? I have heard of dragons and bridge trolls, and everyone has heard of unicorns, of course. But I’ve never heard of anything like you.”
And then she noticed it at the same moment she felt it vibrating under her hand. A massive purr rumbled up from deep within the creature. Delighted laughter filled her throat and for the first time indays, perhaps weeks, Ailis felt totally relaxed and happy.
“Are you magic?” she asked it. “Of course you must be; you’re a magical beast. But are you magic to cause such happiness with such a simple sound?”
The beast sighed, shifting slightly as though to lean more into her touch, and kept purring.
“No, I can’t stay here all day and pet you, silly thing.”
Why not? a small voice in her head asked; not the voice she had become somewhat used to hearing, of Merlin giving advice. But a more familiar one—of self-doubt and second-guessing. Why shouldn’t she stay here? Surely they could not call this an attempt to escape, not if she was found with a beast clearly belonging to Morgain. And it would be difficult to feel bored or trapped in the company of such a happy purr. And think of how much you would enjoy telling Newt about it. He would be so jealous, not to have met—
And that thought stopped any inclination to stay put. How could she tell Newt anything while trapped in Morgain’s castle? No one knew where she was or who had taken her, or that Morgain had been inside Camelot to start with. Nobody would be coming to save her. If she wanted to do more than grow oldinside her gilded cage then she had to find answers for herself.
“I’m sorry, lovely. But I have to go.”
She stepped away, watching carefully to make sure that the beast did not take offense, and looked around to explore more of the chamber they were in. It was a round room with high ceilings, and three sets of wooden doors; the ones she had come through were carved with dragons, the ones to her left had sleek cats entwined in play, and the ones to her right had flames wrapped around twined
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