Read Online The Assassin Princess (Lamb & Castle Book 2) by J.M. Sanford - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: J.M. Sanford
Ads: Link
and didn't fit a man well, Greyfell had belted it with his sword belt. With his stern face he didn't look half so foolish as the Argean skysailor as he paced briskly up and down the deck, keeping the blood flowing. Bessie knew Greyfell regarded magic as the lazy way to get things done, but he must envy her simple spell to stay warm…
He caught her watching him, and he scowled. “Elizabeth, if you must smile, at least try to cultivate a more charming expression than that devious smirk.”
“Yes, Master Greyfell.” A thousand feet below, the wrinkled grey sea passed underneath their vessel. The distant coast was a thin dark line bisecting sea and sky. “How long until we reach Ildorria?”
“We're not going to Ildorria. Not yet.”
“But –”
“I have a suspicion that Ilgrevnia holds the answers to some of our questions, and as luck would have it your Argean friend here knows where to find her.”
Bryn grinned the toothy grin of a tame maneater. “It is wise to know the whereabouts of the rebellious Flying Cities. Like bad currents, or wyverns in the mating season, one would not wish to cross their path unprepared.”
Bessie could well imagine. Even peaceful Flying Cities could move surprisingly fast, great walls of golden stone emerging from the clouds, scattering startled flocks of birds and unwary skysailors. And as for a Flying City intent on war, or even just defending its airspace… As far as she knew , Sharvesh had no weapons, and Bryn never looked for a fight.
“But why Ilgrevnia?” The Archmage she'd spoken to had said Ildorria held the hidden throne room, so why on earth did Greyfell want to waste time anywhere else? “We'd do better to reach the throne room ahead of the White Queen, so we can lie in wait and seize the crown from her on arrival.”
Greyfell shook his head, disgusted at the idea. “This is an appalling farce,” he muttered. “Does no one care for the rules? For the very spirit of the Queens' Contest? The White Queen is crowned, and yet –”
“The White Queen isn't crowned, no matter how many times you say she is!” Bessie snapped. “She has the crown, but it's not on her head yet! And I'm damn well not giving up before her bum's on the throne!”
“ Miss Castle! Take out your exercise book and write five hundred lines of 'I will not use language unbecoming of a lady' !”
“How can I? My exercise book's back in Iletia with all the rest of my things!” She'd been lucky to escape with her conjuring rings – it was a good thing she kept them in her pocket when she didn't need them, rather than in a fancy case like some of her classmates did.
“Sir,” Bryn interrupted, “My lady: pardon me, but there is something strange approaching.” He sniffed the air, his nose wrinkling at a smell he clearly didn't like.
Bessie and Greyfell both stopped to look in the direction Bryn's sensitive nose pointed, but could see nothing more than open sky and a handful of large birds. Eagles perhaps, judging by the size. Bryn stared at the birds, his slit pupils opening up into black pools, and Bessie shivered. Those birds were not birds after all… As the creatures altered their course, spiralling closer to the skyship, their avian charade disintegrated in a whirlwind of clashing blades. Their bodies were wrapped in gauze, but of the wings each feather was a blade; each blade was sharp as a new razor. If they had eyes or brains, they didn't keep them anywhere Bessie could see, but they made unerringly for Sharvesh and her passengers.
“Keep them away from the sails!” Bryn shouted, anticipating the first strike. Whether his warning had been meant for Bessie and Greyfell or for Sharvesh herself, the skyship veered away from the encroaching creatures sharply enough to knock Bessie off balance. She tumbled halfway across the deck and stayed low, the cacophonous creatures rattling by inches above her head. As the razorbirds regathered for another attack, she counted three: one for
He caught her watching him, and he scowled. “Elizabeth, if you must smile, at least try to cultivate a more charming expression than that devious smirk.”
“Yes, Master Greyfell.” A thousand feet below, the wrinkled grey sea passed underneath their vessel. The distant coast was a thin dark line bisecting sea and sky. “How long until we reach Ildorria?”
“We're not going to Ildorria. Not yet.”
“But –”
“I have a suspicion that Ilgrevnia holds the answers to some of our questions, and as luck would have it your Argean friend here knows where to find her.”
Bryn grinned the toothy grin of a tame maneater. “It is wise to know the whereabouts of the rebellious Flying Cities. Like bad currents, or wyverns in the mating season, one would not wish to cross their path unprepared.”
Bessie could well imagine. Even peaceful Flying Cities could move surprisingly fast, great walls of golden stone emerging from the clouds, scattering startled flocks of birds and unwary skysailors. And as for a Flying City intent on war, or even just defending its airspace… As far as she knew , Sharvesh had no weapons, and Bryn never looked for a fight.
“But why Ilgrevnia?” The Archmage she'd spoken to had said Ildorria held the hidden throne room, so why on earth did Greyfell want to waste time anywhere else? “We'd do better to reach the throne room ahead of the White Queen, so we can lie in wait and seize the crown from her on arrival.”
Greyfell shook his head, disgusted at the idea. “This is an appalling farce,” he muttered. “Does no one care for the rules? For the very spirit of the Queens' Contest? The White Queen is crowned, and yet –”
“The White Queen isn't crowned, no matter how many times you say she is!” Bessie snapped. “She has the crown, but it's not on her head yet! And I'm damn well not giving up before her bum's on the throne!”
“ Miss Castle! Take out your exercise book and write five hundred lines of 'I will not use language unbecoming of a lady' !”
“How can I? My exercise book's back in Iletia with all the rest of my things!” She'd been lucky to escape with her conjuring rings – it was a good thing she kept them in her pocket when she didn't need them, rather than in a fancy case like some of her classmates did.
“Sir,” Bryn interrupted, “My lady: pardon me, but there is something strange approaching.” He sniffed the air, his nose wrinkling at a smell he clearly didn't like.
Bessie and Greyfell both stopped to look in the direction Bryn's sensitive nose pointed, but could see nothing more than open sky and a handful of large birds. Eagles perhaps, judging by the size. Bryn stared at the birds, his slit pupils opening up into black pools, and Bessie shivered. Those birds were not birds after all… As the creatures altered their course, spiralling closer to the skyship, their avian charade disintegrated in a whirlwind of clashing blades. Their bodies were wrapped in gauze, but of the wings each feather was a blade; each blade was sharp as a new razor. If they had eyes or brains, they didn't keep them anywhere Bessie could see, but they made unerringly for Sharvesh and her passengers.
“Keep them away from the sails!” Bryn shouted, anticipating the first strike. Whether his warning had been meant for Bessie and Greyfell or for Sharvesh herself, the skyship veered away from the encroaching creatures sharply enough to knock Bessie off balance. She tumbled halfway across the deck and stayed low, the cacophonous creatures rattling by inches above her head. As the razorbirds regathered for another attack, she counted three: one for
Similar Books
