Seeker's Bane by P. C. Hodgell

Author:P. C. Hodgell [Hodgell, P. C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Juvenile Fiction, Fantasy & Magic, Action & Adventure, General
ISBN: 9781618247315
Google: psF0CwAAQBAJ
Amazon: 1439133808
Publisher: Baen
Published: 2009-07-01T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER II

Wyrm Hunt

Summer

I

"We're lost," said Graykin, glowering about the low, dusty corridor. "Three times now, I've trod on the same loose board. Here, you!"—this, to the straw-haired cadet who led them. "Do you even know where you're going?"

The young Kendar named Rue glanced back at them, then quickly away. "Where, yes; how, no. Most of the second and third floors are unused, except for guest quarters and the outermost rooms. We don't like coming up here. Besides, there are stories. . . ."

"Oh?" said Graykin with a nasty grin, baring still raw gaps where m'lord Caldane had knocked out some of his teeth. "More 'singers' fancies'?"

Jame recognized the line that Vant—never her favorite Kendar—had taken with the young border-lander. "What stories?" she asked.

"That something lives up here in a hidden room," Rue burst out defiantly. "That it has the paws of a bear and an axe buried in its head. That it growls and it prowls and it eats cadets who stumble into its lair."

Graykin hooted with laughter. Rue hunched her shoulders, the tips of her ears reddening. Jame considered. Through Jorin's senses, as they wandered, she had caught whiffs of something odd, something rank, something alive.

"The Lawful Lie notwithstanding, most songs have some element of truth in them."

"Hah!" said Graykin. "D'you hear that, brat? Just be careful what door you open. Ugh!" He swatted at the cobweb that he had just walked into and spat out the husk of a fly.

"Poor Gray," said his mistress. "Tentir isn't living up to your expectations, is it?"

"Is it to yours?"

"Oh well. This isn't the college proper. We'll see."

Still, thought Jame, this was not auspicious. Neither had been falling off a horse practically at the Commandant's feet. Then again, it was usually her departure—from anywhere—that caused the most damage. Tai-tastigon in flames, Karkinaroth in ruins, "The Riverland reduced to rubble, and you in the midst of it, looking apologetic. . . ."

What shape would Tentir be in when she left it?

Speaking of shapes, it was odd how every Riverland keep was so different, as if the original builders had made a point of it. Generations of Kencyr had brought their own personalities to the task but less so here, where commandants changed by rotation and no one house had power. From the outside, Old Tentir looked straightforward, even dull. Inside, it was . . . strange. Low halls melting into twilight, right angles that never brought one back to the same place—she was fairly sure that Graykin was wrong about it being the same squeaky board: they all squeaked—someone subtle and secretive had designed this place, disguising its nature behind a bland face.

"Jorin, stay in sight," she called to the ounce who was trotting ahead, eager to explore. Blind from birth, he only saw what she saw and remembered it, but this was all new to her.

Lost.

Would Tori be glad if she disappeared, gone from his life as suddenly as she had reentered it?

Run, she thought, before he tells that alarming randon why he brought you here, before he proves himself as mad as they all fear—or hope—that he is.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.