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was there, but it was like it was happening to somebody else, somebody who Ian
cared about, but not him, not anymore.
"Be still, Ian Silverstein," Hosea's gently slurred voice said. "I've done
what I can for the moment. You'll heal fully, I promise you."
"But "
Ian opened his eyes. It was hard to focus; the form lying on the sand next to
him, its dead eyes staring up at the carved ceiling,
seemed too close somehow, but
"You won." Hosea's dark face loomed above him. "The Fire Duke was a fire
giant; he long ago took on the form of His Warmth."
Gentle fingers touched at his forehead, and urged his eyelids shut. "Sleep
now. We will talk later."
No. He had to
To what? He was done, now, for the time being.
Hosea leaned close and whispered, his breath warm in Ian's ear. "Your father
wouldn't have been proud of you, Ian," he whispered, so quietly that nobody
else could possibly have heard it, "but that's just because he's a fool."
Hot tears streamed down Ian's face, although he couldn't have said why. It
didn't hurt so much, not anymore.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Profession
Page 150
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
Branden del Branden had seated himself behind the Fire Duke's massive desk,
Lord Sensever having taken up a position to its side.
It seemed only fair to Torrie, all things considered, that a noble of Falias
should be holding down the seat until Venidir del Anegir could arrive from the
Old Keep to take his rightful place as Fire Duke. While there were majors of
the House of Flame senior to
Branden del Branden rather a lot of them none seemed eager to even temporarily
occupy the seat that had been held by the imposter.
For how long? Torrie dismissed it. It probably wasn't important.
Ivar del Hival, impatient, paced back and forth, when he wasn't pretending to
examine something in one of the nooks and crannies that decorated the wall.
Thorian del Orvald, on the other hand, sat quietly in a chair over in the
corner, his single eye watching all.
"How is Ian Silverstone?" Branden del Branden asked. "I've instructed Jamed
del Bruno to see he is given the best of care; Lord
Sensever has been kind enough to have his Vestri chirurgeon looking in on
him."
Sensever was idly drawing with his finger on the smooth surface of the desk.
"It seems fair, all things considered; I owe him and you rather a lot,
speaking for His Solidity." His smile at Torrie was warm without being
effusive. "If nothing else, I suspect that the new Fire Duke won't want to
press the late His Warmth's claim to Kerniat."
"But Ian?"
"He will be as well as he can be." Sensever smiled gently. "Birndel was
sucking the poison from wounds in my father's time."
Torrie looked over at Uncle Hosea, who nodded. The nod said all that needed to
be: Ian would be fine.
Torrie flopped down in a chair next to where Uncle Hosea sat. The City had
become more of a comfortable place than he had thought.
He would miss it.
"We don't have much time," he said to Uncle Hosea. "I need to get into the
Secret Ways, and home. I'll need you to guide me."
"I'll come with you, Thorian del Thorian," Ivar del Hival said, his voice a
basso rumble. "Just in case an extra sword, an extra hand is needed."
Torrie nodded. That was reason enough, and if there was trouble, it would be
good to have another sword handy. With any luck, of course, Dad, Mom, and
Maggie had managed to stay ahead of the Sons, and the odds of Torrie being
able to catch up in time to do any good were just this side of nil if they
hadn't, but. . .
Hosea shook his head. "I can't tell you where they are. I don't know."
Torrie flared. "Don't give me that, Uncle Hosea. You built this City;
everything about it shouts of your construction. You know where every Secret
Way, every hiding place is "
Uncle Hosea shook his head. "Not any longer. I it's odd that it would be me
who fails of faith, but fail I did. I" he shook his
head "I no longer remember much of it." He smiled sadly, and tapped a finger
at his temple. "It could be said that I should have had more faith in Ian, but
the risk was too great. I... took a tool and excised the knowledge, and other
knowledge that the fire giant wanted. If he won, he would have little." He
gestured feebly. "As is true for you, I am sorry to say."
Lord Sensever's lips pressed together. "Which makes you rather less of a
prize, Orfindel, and rather less in demand, eh?"
"Clever." Thorian del Orvald raised a gnarled finger to his brow. The
duelmaster could appreciate a sly strategy. "My congratulations, Orfindel, or
whatever your name is."
Torrie shuddered. He had known Uncle Hosea was different, but to take a probe [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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