Sandry's Book by Tamora Pierce

Author:Tamora Pierce
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Fantasy, Fiction
ISBN: 0590554085
Published: 1999-09-01T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Six

That night Tris slept deeply, without dreams. When the voices got her attention just after dawn, she was already awake, feeling more rested than she had in a long time. For a moment she cringed, afraid of still more evidence that she was losing her mind. Then she remembered what Niko had told her. The voices weren't signs of insanity - he wanted to know what they said to her.

"Quick! There he- "

"No, that way! Circle him!"

"It's that cursed thief-boy!"

Tris rolled off the bed and thumped her knees. She scrabbled under the bed for her shoes.

"Be careful of that tree!" the voice cried. "It's a Yanjing shakkan, and priceless, priceless!"

Tris lurched out the door and headed for the stair. Banging her ankle on a crate, she yelped.

Daja opened her door, yawning. "I didn't hear Lark call. What are you doing?"

"Collecting bruises," Tris muttered, and limped down the stair.

Sandry too was up and dressed, clumsily slicing bread at the table. "What is it?"

Tris ran out the front door. Once she was in the open, the clamor of distant voices reached her ears clearly.

"Will you please tell me what it is?" Sandry had followed her.

Looking for the sources, Tris pointed them out. Dedicates in yellow and novices in white approached at the run, along the spiral road and between the loomhouses across from the cottage. Racing toward Discipline, something cradled against his chest, was Briar.

Sandry ran to the low gate and opened it. Waving frantically, she beckoned to him.

"Stop, thief!" A lean dedicate, his yellow habit hemmed in black, led the group on the spiral road. "You, girl," he cried, panting and red-faced from the effort of running, "don't you dare help him!"

"Why are we helping you?" Tris inquired as Briar stumbled past her.

"Stuff yourself," he snapped. "I never asked for help!"

Sandry closed the gate and latched it firmly. It wasn't much of a barrier, but it was better than nothing. Deliberately she stepped into the middle of the path, putting herself squarely between hunters and prey. A breeze caught her black gown and veil, making them wave like banners.

"Admit me instantly!" cried the dedicate who appeared to be the leader, when he reached the gate. The order lost its force as he braced his hands on his knees and gasped for breath.

A novice reached over the gate to feel for the latch. He jumped back when the girl slapped his hand. "I did not give you permission to come onto my home ground," Sandry cried, eyes blazing. "I forbid you to enter!"

Tris's jaw dropped as she thought: She is either crazy, or the bravest person I've ever met.

"Little girl, rank means nothing here!" snapped the novice. He tried to reach the latch again. Sandry doubled her fists and stepped up to the gate.

"What is going on?"

Tris hadn't thought a time might come when she would be glad to see Rosethorn, but she was now. The dedicate had clearly been at work in the gardens. Her green, dew-soaked habit was kilted up, showing legs streaked with dirt; a broad-brimmed straw hat sat on her cropped auburn hair.

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