Pillage (Obert Skye) by Obert Skye

Author:Obert Skye
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: fantasy, Fiction
Publisher: Deseret Book Company
Published: 2009-10-28T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

Two-Quarters of a Person

I had barely fallen asleep when a rap on my bedroom door woke me up. I still was not completely comfortable sleeping alone on the third floor. Between the unexplained noises and the mysterious wind and my imagination running wild, sleep was a precious escape that was not always easy to achieve.

Now that I had fallen asleep, someone had the nerve to knock on my door.

“Who is it?” I asked groggily.

“Wane,” she replied through the door.

“Door’s open,” I mumbled.

Wane came in and flipped on the light. She smiled at me. “Nice hair,” she joked.

“I wasn’t planning on seeing people in the middle of the night,” I said defensively.

“Sorry,” Wane apologized. “I’d rather be sleeping myself, but your uncle wants to see you and he has no sense of time.”

My heart rate increased. I was suddenly wide awake.

“Come with me,” Wane said. “And hurry.”

I jumped out of bed and threw on my shirt. Wane was already out the door and walking down the hall. I raced to catch up to her.

“Why now?” I asked.

“Who knows?” Wane shrugged. “He found out you were here and demanded to see you.”

“He didn’t know I was here?” I asked in amazement.

Wane stopped and looked at me. I could see her thinking behind her eyes.

“No,” she finally said. “Well, kind of.”

“I thought he sent for me?”

“I’m sure he would have if he had been aware of your situation. But your uncle doesn’t communicate well with others. Millie acted in your best interest.”

We climbed the stairs to the fourth floor, crossed the hall, and moved up to the fifth.

I looked at Wane. She was pretty even at night. “Do you like working here?” I asked, suddenly curious.

Wane stopped climbing the stairs. “Of course.”

“It doesn’t seem like the kind of question that can be answered with an ‘of course.’” I pointed out.

Wane smiled.

“Sorry,” I said. “I mean, it seems like a weird job, and unless you lost a bet and have to work here, you’d be better off doing something else.”

“This is my home,” she said simply, beginning to climb again.

After a few steps I spoke again. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Thanks, Beck.”

We walked across an open, empty room.

“Remember what we’ve said,” Wane insisted. “You are not to worry him. If he asks about the manor, give him only good news. Bad news makes him . . .”

“Makes him?”

“Just stick to the good news.”

On the sixth floor was an archway with a large brown door. Wane took a key from her pocket and opened it. I was tempted to inform her that I had a key similar to hers, but I didn’t.

Once through the door, Wane put her hand on my shoulder and turned me around to look at her. The room was lit softly by lion-shaped sconces.

“He wants to see you alone,” she said.

“Is that bad?”

“You’ll be fine,” she said unconvincingly. “Through that door is a spiral staircase that will take you to the dome room. Knock before you enter.”

“Can’t this wait until morning?” I asked anxiously.

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