Silver Scales by L. Rowyn

Author:L. Rowyn [Rowyn, L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy
Publisher: Delight in Books
Published: 2017-10-15T00:00:00+00:00

They folded to the front stoop of the Gardsmark residence, and Kildare gave thanks for the unexpected accuracy. For a moment in the bower, Miss Gardsmark had looked as if she might faint, and Kildare cursed himself inwardly for not taking her home sooner. Even now, she seemed uneasy as she showed them to the parlor. As he stood, hat in hand, in the well-appointed room, the warlock wondered if he should have accompanied her. He could well understand that she did not wish to be alone – but why, in the name of all reason, had she invited him and not one of her friends or relations?

She certainly was not at ease with his company now. She looked everywhere but at his face. “Please, gentlemen, make yourselves comfortable – oh, let me take that, Sir Kildare.” She gathered his hat and Madden’s, and Kildare’s cloak, then paused in the doorway. “I’ll, um, be right back.” She gestured vaguely upwards. “I’m just going to get changed.” She plucked at the sleeve of the oversized uniform jacket she still wore, and finally raised her eyes with a tentative smile. “And then you can have your jacket back.”

“Of course, Miss Gardsmark.” Kildare smiled back and bowed, trying to be as non-threatening as possible. She flashed another quick smile and fled.

Sighing, the warlock flopped into a cream-colored wingback chair and closed his eyes. Madden hopped onto his knees and didn’t say a word. Kildare cracked open one lid to see the hare watching him, concerned.

“How’re you holding up?” Madden asked.

“I don’t know.” Kildare let out another breath. “But I must look worse than I imagined. You’re not even harassing me.”

“Yeah. Well, I’ve never seen you about to kill a man before. It was scary.”

“I cannot disagree.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes again.

“I’ve never seen you that angry before. I mean, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you angry before. Even when Reverend Beckett threw holy water at you. All right, I could’ve killed him, but you just looked depressed. Sort of like you do now.”

“Mph.”

Madden scooted forward in Kildare’s lap and nosed at his arm. “And it’s like your mood keeps changing. One minute you’re normal and the next you’re…I dunno, ready to kill someone again.”

The image of the attacker’s – Syrett’s – face flashed in his mind, knifepoint a hairsbreadth from his eye. I am ready to kill someone. Still. He enfolded Madden in his arms. “I’m sorry. I can’t seem to quite…stop. Every time I think about that monster, I just…”

“S’all right.” Madden pressed his face against the dress shirt, voice muffled. “What was that business with the knife, anyway?”

Kildare stroked Madden’s long floppy ears to delay answering. “When I embedded the knife into that stone, I thought, ‘I need to put it somewhere it will stay, or I will drive it through this man’s skull.’”

The focus stilled beneath his fingers. “And when you got it back?”

“That I might see him again.”

“Oh. I really hope you don’t see him again.

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