The Bookminder by M. K. Wiseman

Author:M. K. Wiseman
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: good vs evil, nature vs nurture, historical fantasy for young adults and teens with magic and wizards, historical fantasy set on adriatic coast in the renaissance era, reclusive wizard protects orphan girl from the truth about her father, selfdiscovery for magical girl seeking family ties, sorcerer and apprentice seeking justice battle evil war mage, story of a mage and his apprentice who confront their mutual past, teenage girl discovers her talents with help of reluctant magician, young adult adventure with strong female heroine coming of age
Publisher: Xchyler Publishing

WELL, the mage didn't die and nobody's stormed the castle, so I'm guessing I've done passably well. It was easier for Liara to be glib now. Three days of tender ministrations had passed and the wizard was driving her mad once more. Demanding and impulsive, Nagarath was not one readily confined to his bed. He simply didn't know how to sit still.

Liara paused outside his door, making sure to rattle the cups in their saucers as she used her elbow to gently push open the door. She'd come to realize it was better if she gave the mage warning before entering. Twice she'd caught him gingerly pacing his room and found, given the heated words exchanged as a result, that it was far easier if they both believed the lie that he was sitting meekly in bed, awaiting his caregiver's return.

"Good morning, Nagarath."

"Good morning, Liara."

A quick glance about the room told her that perhaps he hadn't been stalking about that morning. He certainly didn't look as though he'd left his bed. Rather, his bed looked as though it had left him. Pillows and blankets lay strewn about the sides and foot.

"I take it we had a rough night?" she teased, swiping pillows from the floor and tossing them at Nagarath.

"Bad dreams." He frowned as if clearing out the memory. "And you?"

"Fair enough." Liara finished her triage of the bedding situation and gestured that he come sit with her by the window where she had laid out a light breakfast. Nagarath rose to join her, waving off her offers of assistance.

"No need for that," he said, sitting heavily. "I'm better than halfway recovered. Nearly there. Tomorrow maybe?"

Liara pursed her lips, suppressing a sigh. He'd said much the same thing the past three mornings. Always a promise of 'tomorrow' and then he'd retire to his bed, requesting all sorts of odd volumes from the library. The man would subsist wholly on books—illness or not—if she didn't keep pestering him with food. Frankly, it was getting ridiculous.

She suspected he liked being coddled. But, enjoying the gentle ebb and flow of her power as the castle's spells drew at her Art, she was content to play housekeeper until the mage felt sufficiently strong again. It felt good to feel useful. Liara found it a welcome distraction from other things.

Nagarath's voice recalled her attention. "We could switch chairs if you'd like."

Being a corner room, Nagarath's windows had command of two different vantage points. The casement the pair sat next to faced a different direction from that of Liara's own room. The other offered the same view as Liara's: a glimpse of Dvigrad's dark stones in the far off distance.

Liara hadn't realized she'd been staring past Nagarath and out at the battlements. Color rising to her cheeks, she ignored the gallant offer and instead focused on her plate, trying to keep the tears from welling up once more and choking her.

Nagarath pressed, in spite of her clear desire that he leave the issue alone. "You are allowed to grieve, Liara.

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