Read Online The Unwilling Ambassador (Book 3) by Heidi Willard - Free Book Online Page B

suggested.
    Pat did Fred that favor, and they found only a blank page. "So he hasn't done the pose correctly?" Pat guessed.
    Ned pulled at his beard and smiled. "He's lacking a castor's most important tool, the staff."
    Fred knocked his palm against the stick parts. "But it won't come out."
    "Because you're not scared," Pat pointed out.
    "Or not being brave," Fred countered.
    "Or it's because you're not focusing on your gut feeling," Ned scolded.
    Ruth stiffly rose from her seat, marched over to Fred and pushed him toward the crackling fire. Fred yelped and flailed his arms in front of him. The sticks joined into his staff and he shoved the bottom into the fire to prop himself up. His chest heaved and his head whipped over to Ruth. Pat was beside Ruth with her mouth agape and her eyes filled with horror.
    "What'd you do that for?" Fred exclaimed.
    Ruth sheepishly smiled and shrugged. Behind them Ned chuckled. "It's always the quiet ones you have to watch out for, isn't that right, Mr. Sins?" Sins eyes showed amusement at the old saying.
    Pat noticed movement beneath Fred, and she gasped. "Fred, your staff!"
    Fred glanced down and realized the flames from the fire were creeping up his staff. They'd almost reached him when he pushed himself back and toppled over his sitting log. He fell hard to the ground and his flailing extinguished the flames on his staff. Fred thought for sure the whole thing was a blackened ruin, but the staff was unblemished. "You won't have to worry about that burning up. That staff has survived much worse abuse than fire," Ned told him. "Now try the stance again."
    Pat and Ruth helped Fred to his feet, and he shakily stood in front of the fire with one eye on the gargoyle girl. When he was in position they looked down at the blank page and saw a picture slowly appear on the paper. It showed the silhouette sitting down with the staff held out in the same position. Pat rolled her eyes and groaned. "You must be in jest. How simple are these first lessons?" she asked Ned.
    Ned shrugged. "You asked for a handbook, and this is the most comprehensive one in my collection."
    "Maybe I'll work on this later," Fred spoke up. He stuffed the book into one of his own bottomless pockets, and the group sat down for a meager meal from their diminished supplies.
    "We'll need to gather food at Dirth," Pat spoke up.
    Ned cringed. "Yes, I had thought of that, but there may be a problem with that plan."
    "Problem?" Canto asked him with a raised eyebrow. "Dwarves are always willing to sell their extra food for a profit. The prices may sometimes be steep, but we can get some."
    "It's not the price that concerns me, it's the food," Ned replied.
    Canto bristled at Ned's words. "Dwarven food gives strength and puts hair on yer chest."
    "And that is why it's so hard to tell the difference between a male and a female dwarf," Ned countered, but he sighed. "But we'll have to manage. Perhaps there will be an elf vendor in the area with food for seven."
    Canto rolled his eyes and turned away grumbling.
    "I might be able to help us," Fred spoke up. He reached into his coat and pulled out a whole leg of lamb from one of the pockets. Fluffy perked up his head and wagged his stubby tail.
    Pat frowned. "You're using your castor's cloak to store food?" she scolded him.
    Ned chuckled. "I believe that's a very appropriate use for it. Have you any chicken I might nibble on?"
    Fred had chicken and half of Tramadore Castle's food storage stuffed in those pockets. They had more food now than before their adventures with the cannibals. The companions ate their food and continued on their travels. They didn't come across trouble until two days later. They reached the edge of the Sterning region and the beginning of the Dirth region. The dividing line was a point in the mountains so high that tall cliffs lay on either side of the path and one false step would have led to a death by a drop of a thousand feet. The path was narrow, winding and full of