Read Online The Dreamer's Curse (Book 2) by Honor Raconteur - Free Book Online Page B

crossing the area, all of it. With single-minded determination, she
focused on the task in front of her.
    Without warning, a hand landed on her shoulder and she
dropped the wand she held, upset the notebook open in her lap, and
instinctively reached for the sword at her side before she recognized the man
leaning over her. “Decker! For the love of all mercy, don’t do that!”
    “I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said patiently, “But I
called your name three times and you didn’t even twitch.”
    She put a hand to her thumping heart to make sure it would
not beat its way out of her chest. “You nearly gave me heart failure.”
    “It’s well past the lunch hour.” He sank onto his haunches
in front of her, a half-smile on his face. “I was afraid with the way you were
focused, you’d work right through it. And Master Krause and I are rather hoping
you’d tell us what you found.”
    Now that he mentioned it.… She peered up at the sky with
squinting eyes and discovered the sun had already headed for the western
horizon. It had to be two in the afternoon at least. Had she really been
sitting here for seven hours? In spite of the thick cushion under her, her
whole backend felt numb. Yes, past time to move. With a groan, she put a knee
under her and rolled upwards. Decker offered her a hand, but she chose instead
to put a hand on his arm and use him as a lever to push her way up. Wincing at
the stiffness, she said aloud, “Mental note: bring a proper chair tomorrow.”
    “Did you discover anything?” he asked her.
    “Not much, which in and of itself tells me a great deal.”
    Decker blinked at her, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as if
he didn’t quite know how to take that comment.
    “Where’s Krause?” she asked him, not wanting to repeat the
inevitable explanation.
    “Oh, he’s there.” Decker pointed toward the one inn on this
side of the village that served lunch. The ombudsman stood on the porch,
obviously waiting for them.
    “Good.” Picking up everything, she shoved it all back into
her bag, except the cushion. That she tucked under her arm before walking
slowly toward Krause. Her legs, back and buttocks tingled painfully as the
blood started flowing again. Oww. Yes, she’d definitely bring a chair tomorrow.
    No one said anything as she took a step up into the inn and
crossed into the dimmer and cooler room. After baking under a warm sun most of
the day, the environment felt pleasant to her overheated body and she
unconsciously smiled. The tavern here had a solid plank floor, no sawdust, and
highly polished round tables scattered everywhere. The bar that stretched the
length of the room held no customers, and its polished surface shone from being
recently cleaned. For that matter, the whole room looked as if it hadn’t seen a
single patron the entire day, but instead stood ready for tonight.
    Krause took a table near the bar with all the ease and familiarity
of a regular patron (which he might very well be for all she knew) and waved
them to join him. Sevana deposited everything in her hands onto the surface of
the nearest table before she eased into the chair at his left, not at all sure
how her backend would feel about sitting on something solid again, but the
angle of it felt fine. She sank back against the wood and relaxed.
    A serving girl that could have been Krause’s daughter with
those looks came out and took their order of “anything hot and easy to dish up”
and disappeared back into the kitchen. Krause turned to Sevana with an eager
smile and asked, “What have you discovered?”
    “Not much,” she admitted easily.
    “But she said that tells her something,” Decker added, still
bemused on this point. “Care to explain that?”
    Master had trained her from an early age that part of being
an Artifactor was explaining things to your clients. After all, they paid your
wage, so you owed them explanations on the job you did. She’d gotten better at
doing so over the years, but