(eng) Patricia C. Wrede - Lyra 05 by Raven Ring

Author:Raven Ring [Ring, Raven]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

FIFTEEN

ELERET HAD JUST TIME to climb to her feet before Baroja returned, carrying a hanging lamp filched from one of the wall sconces outside. In Baroja’s hands, the lamp lit barely a quarter of the room and cast long black shadows across most of that.

“Where’s Mobrellan?” Eleret said, peering uneasily into the gloom on the far side of the room.

“Who?” Baroja swung the lantern, sending shadows dancing and making it impossible to tell if anyone was hiding. Fingering the hilt of her dagger, Eleret backed up, closer to the door.

“Baroja! Give me that.” Daner took the lamp away from his cousin and looped the chain over a bracket near the door. As the shadows steadied, Eleret looked around again. There was no sign of Mobrellan, but now that there was better light, Eleret could see a second door, in the far wall.

“Good idea,” Baroja said to Daner. “Now, you’ve got your light. What happened?”

“In a minute. Eleret, are you all right?”

“I’m fine. Jonystra’s been burned; I’m not sure how badly. Mobrellan got away.” When Daner frowned, plainly puzzled, Eleret added, “Jonystra’s porter. He probably dodged through there in the confusion.” She waved at the far door.

Daner hesitated. “Baroja, would you check?”

“What for? He’s just a porter.”

“He might know something we need to hear.”

“You chase him, then.” Baroja flicked an invisible dust mote from his shoulder.

“I should stay here, in case your precious Luck-seer tries another spell.”

“I don’t think she can, right now,” Eleret put in. Jonystra lay curled in a wretched ball beside the overturned bench, hiding her face and moaning softly to herself. The ragged, half-burnt ends of her hair stuck out in all directions. Eleret suppressed a wave of sympathy.

“Even so, I want to stay here,” Daner said. “Baroja…”

“Another spell, you said?” Baroja raised his eyebrows. “This explanation is going to be worth a week’s profit from the long docks.” He studied Daner’s expression for a moment, then gave a lazy shrug. “As you’ll have it, Cousin. But you owe me for this.”

“Not much,” Daner replied. “And you owe me far more for bringing a spell-caster into my home to attack my guests. Go, Baroja.”

Finally, Baroja went, stepping cautiously around the end of the table and across to the far door. Daner snorted softly, then turned and knelt beside Jonystra. As he reached for the Luck-seer’s shoulder, Eleret sighed, pulled out her dagger once more, and said, “Daner.”

Startled, Daner looked up. “What?”

“Don’t block my throwing lines.”

Daner blinked, nodded, and shifted his position. Then he reached out and gently pulled Jonystra out of her protective ball.

“There’s nobody in the back room, Daner,” Baroja announced. “And no other door, so the porter couldn’t have gone that way after all. Are you quite sure—Loren’s Curse! What happened to her?”

Jonystra’s eyebrows and eyelashes were gone, and her eyes had swollen shut. Her hairline had been scorched back half an inch, leaving twisted black stubble over angry red burns. Most of her face was bright pink, and long whitish blisters marked her chin, cheeks, and nose.

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