Mage Wars 01: The Black Gryphon by Mercedes Lackey

Author:Mercedes Lackey [Lackey, Mercedes]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2010-04-22T04:00:00+00:00

Mental nattering, really. Fretting over things he could not control and could not change was a habit of his. If he could change something, he did so; if he couldn't, he fretted it to pieces in hopes of finding a way he could affect the situation.

Fortunately he didn't have time to work himself up over either the mages' meeting or Skan; Gesten finally poked his nose through the door flap and motioned someone inside. A female, but Amberdrake knew that already.

But now he knew why Urtho had not specified who was coming, in making this appointment. Stiff, severe posture, mathematically precise hair, with three thin braids down the back of her neck, pinched expression, perfectly pressed and creased utilitarian clothing— Winterhart? Oh, gods. His shoulder muscles tensed, and his head started aching. He stopped his lip from curling with distaste just in time and dropped his mask of impassiveness into place.

I am a professional. Urtho sent her to me, and the fee he included should quite cover the fact that she is a pain in the tail. I can take care of her without becoming the least involved. She is only here for physical therapy. I don't have to know her inmost secrets, I don't even have to speak more than a dozen words to her.

All that flashed through his mind, as he altered his expression into a carefully indifferent and businesslike smile. She was moving very stiffly, more so than he remembered, and it wasn't all because she was not happy to be here. What had the note Urtho sent said? Back injury. Interesting; she was far stiffer than even a back injury would account for.

I don't have to open up to her to know that she is as tense as a cocked catapult. It's written in every muscle. I can't work on her like that, and she is not going to relax.... Interesting; I don't think she recognizes me as having been with Skan. Maybe the dim light is working for me.

There was certainly no sign of recognition in her eyes—and then, there was recognition, but no sudden pulling back that would indicate she realized he had watched while Skan and Zhaneel made her look the fool.

Well, that tenseness was the reason there was vero-grass tea steeping. She wouldn't be the first client who had come to a kestra'chern too tense to get any benefit from the visit.

"You look thirsty," he said quickly as she looked around suspiciously. "Please, do drink this tea before we begin. It will help you."

And as a Trondi'irn should know, vero-grass was thick with minerals; someone with a back injury was in need of minerals.

She accepted the cup of tea dubiously, waved aside his offer of honey to sweeten it, and took a sip. Her eyes widened as she recognized what it was, but she said nothing; she simply gulped it down. Grimly, he thought. As if she dared him to do his worst.

Well, he wouldn't do his worst, he would do his best, and to hell with her and her opinions.

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