do you sell?” JiNese asked Yardof once they were outside the city.
“Gargoyles,” he said proudly with a wave of his hand. “The most exquisitely crafted wooden gargoyles you’ve ever set eyes upon.”
“Wooden gargoyles?” Daia asked. “Gargoyles are supposed to be carved of stone. Why would anyone want a wooden one?”
“Naylen, show the ladies our goods.”
All three of the swordswomen slowed their horses to align with the back of the cart so they could see the items the merchant had for sale.
Naylen looked at them with large brown eyes. A lanky girl, she had her father’s dark brown hair and thick eyebrows. With a sigh, she muttered to herself as she stood to open the chest she’d been sitting on. Inside lay a jumble of perhaps fifty small figurines, intricately carved of various types of wood. They varied in color from almost white to deep brown and red, and ranged in size from two to eight inches. Each one had tiny jet-black onyxes set into its eye sockets.
“What are the gems for?” Daia asked.
“Protection,” Naylen replied with a bored tone as though she’d answered this question a thousand times already.
“Naylen, show them how the gargoyles work,” Yardof called.
The girl sighed again and grabbed one of the carvings from the box, then shut the lid. She set the gargoyle atop the chest and released her hand.
The figurine rose and fell as though it had taken a breath. Its carved claws flexed, then melded into the chest. At once the gargoyle and its perch were of a single piece of wood. Daia saw no line to divide them.
“That’s beautiful,” JiNese exclaimed.
“Nice trickery. But what good is it?” Cirang asked.
“Try to open the chest,” Naylen challenged, pushing it to the end of the wagon.
Cirang snorted and urged her horse closer. She leaned over, careful not to fall out of the saddle, and reached for the box. She hissed and jerked her hand back. “Damn!”
“What’s wrong?” JiNese asked.
“It burnt the hell out of me,” Cirang said. She put two fingers into her mouth.
Naylen reached for the lid of the chest and opened it with ease. “Whoever places the gargoyle can open the chest, and no other.” She lifted the gargoyle from the box and placed it back inside.
“Oooh!” JiNese said. “That’s really something.”
“What happens when the person who places the gargoyle dies before unlocking the chest?” Daia asked. “Is the chest then locked forever?”
Naylen’s face went blank. “Um… Papa?”
“The gargoyle will remain until a second gargoyle unlocks the chest,” Yardof said. “But only if the person who placed the first one has passed on. Then the original gargoyle can be removed and reused.”
“Does it work on other things?” Daia asked.
“Absolutely. They work wonderfully on doors. You can even put one on a chair if you don’t want anyone else to sit on it. Our gargoyle locks are unique and secure; even the most powerful mage in the world couldn’t defeat it.”
Never would Daia have imagined that something so nonsensical could be so ingenious. “I’ve never seen anything like it,” she said. “How much do you sell them for?”
“For you, a special price,” Yardof called back. “Only one dycla for the small one.”
Naylen placed a finger to her lips. “He usually sells them for three kions,” she whispered. “Offer him two and he might take it.”
Chapter 8
Brodas put on the liripipe he’d taken from a dead cleric a month earlier and smoothed it across his shoulders. At the time, he’d had no idea how useful it would be. He waited out of sight while the manservant admitted his guests and Warrick issued the first welcome. Then, he strode into the great hall with his hands open before him.
“Thank you so much for accepting my invitation on such short notice,” he said with a warm smile.
Guild mistress Aminda Battlehard and her captain, Lilalian, turned to greet their host. Their jaws dropped, and they
“Gargoyles,” he said proudly with a wave of his hand. “The most exquisitely crafted wooden gargoyles you’ve ever set eyes upon.”
“Wooden gargoyles?” Daia asked. “Gargoyles are supposed to be carved of stone. Why would anyone want a wooden one?”
“Naylen, show the ladies our goods.”
All three of the swordswomen slowed their horses to align with the back of the cart so they could see the items the merchant had for sale.
Naylen looked at them with large brown eyes. A lanky girl, she had her father’s dark brown hair and thick eyebrows. With a sigh, she muttered to herself as she stood to open the chest she’d been sitting on. Inside lay a jumble of perhaps fifty small figurines, intricately carved of various types of wood. They varied in color from almost white to deep brown and red, and ranged in size from two to eight inches. Each one had tiny jet-black onyxes set into its eye sockets.
“What are the gems for?” Daia asked.
“Protection,” Naylen replied with a bored tone as though she’d answered this question a thousand times already.
“Naylen, show them how the gargoyles work,” Yardof called.
The girl sighed again and grabbed one of the carvings from the box, then shut the lid. She set the gargoyle atop the chest and released her hand.
The figurine rose and fell as though it had taken a breath. Its carved claws flexed, then melded into the chest. At once the gargoyle and its perch were of a single piece of wood. Daia saw no line to divide them.
“That’s beautiful,” JiNese exclaimed.
“Nice trickery. But what good is it?” Cirang asked.
“Try to open the chest,” Naylen challenged, pushing it to the end of the wagon.
Cirang snorted and urged her horse closer. She leaned over, careful not to fall out of the saddle, and reached for the box. She hissed and jerked her hand back. “Damn!”
“What’s wrong?” JiNese asked.
“It burnt the hell out of me,” Cirang said. She put two fingers into her mouth.
Naylen reached for the lid of the chest and opened it with ease. “Whoever places the gargoyle can open the chest, and no other.” She lifted the gargoyle from the box and placed it back inside.
“Oooh!” JiNese said. “That’s really something.”
“What happens when the person who places the gargoyle dies before unlocking the chest?” Daia asked. “Is the chest then locked forever?”
Naylen’s face went blank. “Um… Papa?”
“The gargoyle will remain until a second gargoyle unlocks the chest,” Yardof said. “But only if the person who placed the first one has passed on. Then the original gargoyle can be removed and reused.”
“Does it work on other things?” Daia asked.
“Absolutely. They work wonderfully on doors. You can even put one on a chair if you don’t want anyone else to sit on it. Our gargoyle locks are unique and secure; even the most powerful mage in the world couldn’t defeat it.”
Never would Daia have imagined that something so nonsensical could be so ingenious. “I’ve never seen anything like it,” she said. “How much do you sell them for?”
“For you, a special price,” Yardof called back. “Only one dycla for the small one.”
Naylen placed a finger to her lips. “He usually sells them for three kions,” she whispered. “Offer him two and he might take it.”
Chapter 8
Brodas put on the liripipe he’d taken from a dead cleric a month earlier and smoothed it across his shoulders. At the time, he’d had no idea how useful it would be. He waited out of sight while the manservant admitted his guests and Warrick issued the first welcome. Then, he strode into the great hall with his hands open before him.
“Thank you so much for accepting my invitation on such short notice,” he said with a warm smile.
Guild mistress Aminda Battlehard and her captain, Lilalian, turned to greet their host. Their jaws dropped, and they
Similar Books
