Read Online Warden (Book 2: Lure of the Lamia) by Kevin Hardman - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Kevin Hardman
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with your knife skills, now with your knowledge. Not many are easily able to recognize homunculi.”
Errol said nothing, but silently he was thankful for the thoroughness of his tutelage under Tom. Again, his brother’s rigorous mentorship had shown its value.
Miabi went on. “Berry has been part of my husband’s family for generations. According to legend, my husband’s five-times great-grandfather fashioned him from clay and brought him to life with earth-magic.”
“And he’s part of your sideshow?”
Before Miabi could answer, Berry himself responded. In a voice that seemed far too big for his small body, he turned to Errol (deigning to notice him for the first time) and said, “I am not one of those fakes or freaks!”
Both Miabi and her daughters seemed startled. They all looked from Berry (who went back to his cards) to Errol, as if the latter were a singing tree. Errol was unsure of what to make of it all and found his guard slowly coming up as the silence in the tent lingered.
“You must forgive us,” Miabi said, breaking the silence after what seemed minutes but which was most likely only seconds. “Berry is, to be frank, an unsociable creature at best – even with those of us who could probably be considered his family. Outside of the show we occasionally use him in, he seldom ever speaks to anyone, let alone strangers.”
“What sort of show do you use him in?” Errol asked.
Again, it was Berry who answered. “First of all, you can stop speaking of me as if I weren’t in the room. Next, my name isn’t ‘Berry.’ That’s just what I allow my family here to call me since they’d rip their tongues out at the roots trying to pronounce my real name. Finally, these slavers use me as a fortune-teller.”
“Fortune-teller?” Errol repeated.
“Yes,” said Miabi. “Homunculi are known to be extremely wise. For one coin, anyone can ask him one question and receive an answer. For you, Warden, we’ll allow a question without payment of coin.”
There were a few seconds of palpable silence while all eyes focused on Errol.
“What? You mean now?” he asked. “You want me to ask him something right now?”
“Please,” said Sharn, whom Errol would later learn was seventeen. Tilbi, on the other hand, was only twelve.
Errol thought about what he knew regarding homunculi. According to legend, they were more than just wise; they were reputedly the repositories of all knowledge. That being the case, Berry might be able to shed some light on Tom’s location.
At the same time, however, Errol was well-aware of the fact that few things in life were free – particularly in situations where magic was involved, and Berry was, by all accounts, a creature of magic. Errol didn’t like the idea of being indebted to the troupe, Berry, or anyone else by virtue of asking a single question.
“Maybe another time,” Errol finally said. “I really can’t think of anything at the moment.”
“Very well,” said Miabi, somewhat disappointedly. Even her two daughters looked slightly crestfallen. Berry, on the other hand, gave Errol an appraising stare followed by a slight, almost imperceptible, nod that made it seem as though he had somehow earned the homunculus’ approval in some way.
With that, Errol’s tour of the troupe’s camp came to an end. He departed, thanking Miabi for showing him around and assuring her that he would be on hand when performances were slated to begin the following day.
*****
That evening, Errol made a trip to the Beverly farm. Ostensibly, the purpose of his visit was to apprise the family that a gulon had been spotted in the area, and – upon arrival – he began explaining that to Gale’s parents as the three of them stood on the porch of the Beverly home. Gale’s no-nonsense mother, however, was having none of it, and she cut Errol off before he got more than ten seconds into his alleged warning.
“The barn,” said Gale’s mother, Bea.
“What?” Errol
Errol said nothing, but silently he was thankful for the thoroughness of his tutelage under Tom. Again, his brother’s rigorous mentorship had shown its value.
Miabi went on. “Berry has been part of my husband’s family for generations. According to legend, my husband’s five-times great-grandfather fashioned him from clay and brought him to life with earth-magic.”
“And he’s part of your sideshow?”
Before Miabi could answer, Berry himself responded. In a voice that seemed far too big for his small body, he turned to Errol (deigning to notice him for the first time) and said, “I am not one of those fakes or freaks!”
Both Miabi and her daughters seemed startled. They all looked from Berry (who went back to his cards) to Errol, as if the latter were a singing tree. Errol was unsure of what to make of it all and found his guard slowly coming up as the silence in the tent lingered.
“You must forgive us,” Miabi said, breaking the silence after what seemed minutes but which was most likely only seconds. “Berry is, to be frank, an unsociable creature at best – even with those of us who could probably be considered his family. Outside of the show we occasionally use him in, he seldom ever speaks to anyone, let alone strangers.”
“What sort of show do you use him in?” Errol asked.
Again, it was Berry who answered. “First of all, you can stop speaking of me as if I weren’t in the room. Next, my name isn’t ‘Berry.’ That’s just what I allow my family here to call me since they’d rip their tongues out at the roots trying to pronounce my real name. Finally, these slavers use me as a fortune-teller.”
“Fortune-teller?” Errol repeated.
“Yes,” said Miabi. “Homunculi are known to be extremely wise. For one coin, anyone can ask him one question and receive an answer. For you, Warden, we’ll allow a question without payment of coin.”
There were a few seconds of palpable silence while all eyes focused on Errol.
“What? You mean now?” he asked. “You want me to ask him something right now?”
“Please,” said Sharn, whom Errol would later learn was seventeen. Tilbi, on the other hand, was only twelve.
Errol thought about what he knew regarding homunculi. According to legend, they were more than just wise; they were reputedly the repositories of all knowledge. That being the case, Berry might be able to shed some light on Tom’s location.
At the same time, however, Errol was well-aware of the fact that few things in life were free – particularly in situations where magic was involved, and Berry was, by all accounts, a creature of magic. Errol didn’t like the idea of being indebted to the troupe, Berry, or anyone else by virtue of asking a single question.
“Maybe another time,” Errol finally said. “I really can’t think of anything at the moment.”
“Very well,” said Miabi, somewhat disappointedly. Even her two daughters looked slightly crestfallen. Berry, on the other hand, gave Errol an appraising stare followed by a slight, almost imperceptible, nod that made it seem as though he had somehow earned the homunculus’ approval in some way.
With that, Errol’s tour of the troupe’s camp came to an end. He departed, thanking Miabi for showing him around and assuring her that he would be on hand when performances were slated to begin the following day.
*****
That evening, Errol made a trip to the Beverly farm. Ostensibly, the purpose of his visit was to apprise the family that a gulon had been spotted in the area, and – upon arrival – he began explaining that to Gale’s parents as the three of them stood on the porch of the Beverly home. Gale’s no-nonsense mother, however, was having none of it, and she cut Errol off before he got more than ten seconds into his alleged warning.
“The barn,” said Gale’s mother, Bea.
“What?” Errol
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