Read Online The Unwilling Accomplice (Book 5) by Heidi Willard - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Heidi Willard
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Sins' eyes narrowed, but he reluctantly strode after their short companion.
"Would you like to accompany us?" Ruth asked Ned and Fred.
"What say you, my young apprentice?" Ned asked the young man.
"I've had enough of closed places for one day," Fred replied.
"We shall accept that as a no, and wish you ladies happy hunting in your reading," Ned told the two women.
"Don't find too much trouble," Pat warned them as they turned to leave.
"It finds me," Fred mumbled.
The women left, leaving Fred and Ned alone in the square. Ned glanced at Fred. "It seems we have some time to ourselves, Fred. What would you like to do? There are the gardens to see, of course, and-" Ned paused and Fred glanced to him to see what was the matter.
"Is something wrong?" Fred asked him. He noticed Ned's eyes were on something that glistened in the light of the sun.
The glistening item was a strand of long black hair that floated through the air. Nothing about the strand itself was unusual, but its behavior was peculiar. Though there was no breeze, the strand dipped and rose through the air weaving in and out of the bustling shoppers. It flitted over the wares and spun around the shoppers, but was careful and small enough not to be seen except by the pair of castors.
"What is it?" Fred asked his master.
At his words the strand of hair floated away from the crowds and toward the stairs.
"I believe it is a calling card," Ned commented.
"A what?" Fred repeated, but Ned was already heading for the stairs.
"Come, my young apprentice. Let us see who wishes to speak with us," Ned called over his shoulder.
Fred hurried after Ned who hurried after the strand. The hair as it flew upward through four terraces before it drifted leftward. They were led along the cobblestone street halfway around the encircling city before the hair turned off into a small plot of grass that surrounded a large tree. Under that tree was a bench, and the strand of hair fell to the ground before the bench. On that bench was a beautiful young woman, Lady Martley. She smiled at them and bowed her head.
"Good morning, Edwin, good morning Fred," she greeted them like an old friend.
"Good morning, Lady Martley, if that is truly your name," Ned returned. He moved to partially block Fred from her view, and she chuckled.
"Neither of you have anything to fear from me," she assured him.
"Can you prove that to us?" Ned countered.
"Haven't I already proved my wish to protect him with my warning to Fred at String?" she returned.
"A protector who hides in the darkness may have ill intentions," Ned replied.
Martley shook her head. "I do not hold such intentions. The darkness is to protect myself from Canavar's ever-present watch," she told him.
Ned frowned. "What have you to do with him?" he questioned her.
Martley sighed and a bitter smile slipped onto her lips. "I can see you do not trust me, but I did not intend for our discussion to focus on myself." Her eyes fell on Fred and she nodded her head toward him. "We have kept the truth too long from him in the hope that he would never need to face Canavar, but the incident at String has shown that keeping the truth from Fred will only allow Canavar the upper hand. Surely you must see that," she added, addressing Ned.
Fred blinked, and he stepped forward to be by Ned's side. He looked into his master's face and noticed Ned's skin was pale and his hands around his staff trembled. "Ned, what's she talking about?" he asked him.
Ned pursed his lips and shook his head. "It is nothing for you to worry about," he assured Fred.
Martley frowned and stood. "Nothing for him to worry about? His soul is nothing to worry about? We all know Canavar wishes to possess the rest of his soul and will destroy the entire world to get at it," she argued.
Ned's eyes sparked with anger as they fell on Martley. "And who are you to know so much of Canavar? Are you in league with him?" he accused her.
A bitter smile slipped onto Martley's lips. "In league?
"Would you like to accompany us?" Ruth asked Ned and Fred.
"What say you, my young apprentice?" Ned asked the young man.
"I've had enough of closed places for one day," Fred replied.
"We shall accept that as a no, and wish you ladies happy hunting in your reading," Ned told the two women.
"Don't find too much trouble," Pat warned them as they turned to leave.
"It finds me," Fred mumbled.
The women left, leaving Fred and Ned alone in the square. Ned glanced at Fred. "It seems we have some time to ourselves, Fred. What would you like to do? There are the gardens to see, of course, and-" Ned paused and Fred glanced to him to see what was the matter.
"Is something wrong?" Fred asked him. He noticed Ned's eyes were on something that glistened in the light of the sun.
The glistening item was a strand of long black hair that floated through the air. Nothing about the strand itself was unusual, but its behavior was peculiar. Though there was no breeze, the strand dipped and rose through the air weaving in and out of the bustling shoppers. It flitted over the wares and spun around the shoppers, but was careful and small enough not to be seen except by the pair of castors.
"What is it?" Fred asked his master.
At his words the strand of hair floated away from the crowds and toward the stairs.
"I believe it is a calling card," Ned commented.
"A what?" Fred repeated, but Ned was already heading for the stairs.
"Come, my young apprentice. Let us see who wishes to speak with us," Ned called over his shoulder.
Fred hurried after Ned who hurried after the strand. The hair as it flew upward through four terraces before it drifted leftward. They were led along the cobblestone street halfway around the encircling city before the hair turned off into a small plot of grass that surrounded a large tree. Under that tree was a bench, and the strand of hair fell to the ground before the bench. On that bench was a beautiful young woman, Lady Martley. She smiled at them and bowed her head.
"Good morning, Edwin, good morning Fred," she greeted them like an old friend.
"Good morning, Lady Martley, if that is truly your name," Ned returned. He moved to partially block Fred from her view, and she chuckled.
"Neither of you have anything to fear from me," she assured him.
"Can you prove that to us?" Ned countered.
"Haven't I already proved my wish to protect him with my warning to Fred at String?" she returned.
"A protector who hides in the darkness may have ill intentions," Ned replied.
Martley shook her head. "I do not hold such intentions. The darkness is to protect myself from Canavar's ever-present watch," she told him.
Ned frowned. "What have you to do with him?" he questioned her.
Martley sighed and a bitter smile slipped onto her lips. "I can see you do not trust me, but I did not intend for our discussion to focus on myself." Her eyes fell on Fred and she nodded her head toward him. "We have kept the truth too long from him in the hope that he would never need to face Canavar, but the incident at String has shown that keeping the truth from Fred will only allow Canavar the upper hand. Surely you must see that," she added, addressing Ned.
Fred blinked, and he stepped forward to be by Ned's side. He looked into his master's face and noticed Ned's skin was pale and his hands around his staff trembled. "Ned, what's she talking about?" he asked him.
Ned pursed his lips and shook his head. "It is nothing for you to worry about," he assured Fred.
Martley frowned and stood. "Nothing for him to worry about? His soul is nothing to worry about? We all know Canavar wishes to possess the rest of his soul and will destroy the entire world to get at it," she argued.
Ned's eyes sparked with anger as they fell on Martley. "And who are you to know so much of Canavar? Are you in league with him?" he accused her.
A bitter smile slipped onto Martley's lips. "In league?
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