Read Online Unhonored by Tracy Hickman - Free Book Online Page B

“It’s not my place…”
    â€œGo on,” Ellis insisted.
    â€œWell, it’s true that he knows something about the Ruins … the Old Quarter of the house, I mean,” the elderly woman said, her words coming slow and with caution. “But he may be a bit too familiar with them, if you know what I mean.”
    â€œI’m sure I don’t.” Ellis glared at Mrs. Crow. “Go on.”
    â€œI’m just saying that some places in the Ruins are not safe,” Mrs. Crow said, holding her pale hands up. “You’ll need him to help you find Miss Jenny but he’s not playing the same Game as the rest of us … or you, for that matter, my lady. In the end, it’ll be only Jonas that Jonas is thinking about saving. Mark my words.”
    Ellis picked up the drab, green jacket of the traveling suit from off of the bed, gazing at it thoughtfully. “In the end, Mrs. Crow, aren’t we all just trying to save ourselves?”
    *   *   *
    The double doors were still open onto the large garden courtyard. The stones of the path were wet from the rain that had finally ceased. The leaves of the trimmed bushes glistened slightly under the light from the windows of the floors above. The muffled sound of distant laughter drifted down from those same windows, carefree and oblivious around the figure of Mrs. Crow.
    She stood in the open doorway watching two figures moving quietly into the hedge maze that filled the courtyard. One was a man dressed in the house livery of a servant, an outfit completely unsuited for the task before them, but Mrs. Crow had insisted that the young man maintain his station. The other was a woman in a traveling dress who stopped at the edge of the entrance to the maze and turned for one last look.
    Mrs. Crow smiled and waved encouragingly at her.
    She raised her hand in acknowledgment and in a moment both the man and woman were gone.
    Beyond the maze rose the dark and forbidding wing of the house known as the Old Quarter or, more commonly, the Ruins. They were not ruins, in the strictest sense of the word, Mrs. Crow corrected herself, but simply abandoned to the decay of memory. The windows there were dark and as hollow as the grave.
    Mrs. Crow lingered at the threshold.
    Waiting.
    â€œAre they gone?” came the deep voice from the dark hall behind her.
    â€œYes, my lord.” Mrs. Crow spoke without turning at all, her gaze still cast over the garden. “As I told you they would be. Everything is in place and I have sown the seeds of doubt between them. It will just take a little time for them to take root. That was always part of the plan.”
    â€œBut not sending them into the Ruins!” Merrick stepped from the shadows, his face grim as he came to stand beside her.
    Mrs. Crow turned toward him, her blue eyes taking on a dull, featureless black color. Her words were as sharp as cold steel.
    â€œAre you questioning my scheme?” Mrs. Crow spoke the quiet words with such authority that they caused the small windows framed in the door to quake. Around them both, shadows began to gather into terrible forms with leathery wings and long sharp claws, their blank eyes turning to stare at Merrick.
    â€œNo, not at all, Mrs. Crow,” Merrick said with careful words as he took a step back. “I am just observing that you never said you would send them into the old part of the house.”
    â€œTrue enough, Lord Merrick,” the old woman said with a suddenly gentle, demure smile. The horrendous shadows around them faded from existence. “But that is where she will discover the most terrible thing of all, the one thing that she cannot fight and from which she can never flee.”
    â€œIndeed?” Merrick raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “And what is this terrible monster she will find?”
    â€œThe truth about herself,” Mrs. Crow said gently.
    â€œThe truth?” Merrick