As the Crow Flies: An Epic Fantasy Adventure by Lythgoe Robin

Author:Lythgoe, Robin [Lythgoe, Robin]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Robin Lythgoe
Published: 2012-12-07T16:00:00+00:00

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We had hardly closed the door of our room before Tanris spun, features intense. “That was the priest!” he hissed at the very same time I said, “That was Melly! The priest with the horrible name in the letters.”

He nodded, mouth tight. “It has to be. Is that going to complicate things?”

“Hard to say,” I shrugged. “We’ll find out.”

“You have something in mind?”

I brushed past him. “It’s my job, let me do it.”

The brothers had fed us, bathed us, provided proper tools for shaving, given us clean and dry clothes, and showed us to our rooms. Once again, Tanris and I were forced to share a space, but Girl got a blissful room of her own. The rooms—with or without Tanris—would have been nothing to get excited about except that I’d recently spent so much time lying on the cold, wet ground with ever more wetness falling on me. Though thin, the ticking on the narrow beds was warm and dry, and we even had small fireplaces flanked by little shuttered windows looking out upon newly worked vegetable gardens.

Evidently unimpressed, he cracked his neck, one side and then the other. “There was no egg.”

“Lo, Captain Tanris of the good ship, Obvious. What would we do without you?” I didn’t even try to keep the scathing tone from my voice. I needed viable ideas to solving the puzzle of Duzayan’s egg, not repetition of what I already knew. Stretched out on one bed, I took out the Beisyth Web, turning the ball over and over in my fingers. Utterly quiescent, it gave me a good point upon which to focus.

“At least I’m trying to come up with a solution. Will you quit playing with that thing and help me?”

“Playing with this thing does not preclude thinking. Your pointless jabbering does.”

“Do you have a plan?”

“Yes.” I lied, but maybe it would get him to shut up.

“Does it include resting and changing your clothes?” he sneered, and it took a moment or two to recall where that had come up in our conversations before: right after Baron Duzayan had made his oh-so-generous offer to let me help him or die. After an eternity of torture.

“I would love to change my clothes,” I agreed and plucked at my borrowed tunic. “These are all well and good, but I grow weary of such dull, practical garments, though I will have to admit it is nice to wear something clean and dry.”

“And how is that going to help us?” Tanris growled. “Can you not be serious? If we can’t find the egg, what are we going to do?”

“From my point of view things are fairly simple.” I looked at the ball, a frown tugging at my brow. My fingers were tingling. I thrust the thing into my pocket and sat up, shoving one foot and then the other into disreputable boots that had been new two months ago. The coat I shrugged into was still damp, still smelly. “Things will be quite tragic for you, but I will merely die.

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