The Emerald Scepter (The Scions of Arrabar) by Thomas M. Reid

Author:Thomas M. Reid [Reid, Thomas M.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
ISBN: 9780786956944
Publisher: Wizards of the Coast Publishing
Published: 2010-04-12T00:00:00+00:00

The arbor Patimi had spoken of was not far from Lobra’s balcony, but in order to reach it, the two Matrell women and their prisoner had to descend a series of terraced flower beds that had been filled with numerous robust blooming plants, then cross an open lawn. Some of the flowers grew as tall as Emriana herself, and in addition, there were thick hedges, stands of swaying grass with razorlike leaves, and jumbles of thorny bushes. Beyond the flower beds, in the sliver of Selune that shone on it, the arbor loomed dark and forbidding, all overgrown and neglected.

At least we can hide in this mess, the girl thought as she shifted Lobra’s weight and struggled down another level. No one would think to hunt for us in here.

On the other end of Lobra’s limp form, Xaphira’s labored breathing signaled to Emriana that her aunt was losing her energy quickly. That realization made her shudder, wondering what had happened to the older woman while she had been imprisoned in the dungeons of the Generon. After her own suffering at Lobra’s hands and the bruises Xaphira sported, the girl’s imagination lent itself to some pretty awful possibilities.

“You all right?” Emriana whispered as they shifted sideways to squeeze through a hedge. “You want to stop and rest?”

“No,” Xaphira whispered back. “I’ll be fine. Just winded.”

“That’s what I’m worried about,” Emriana replied. “As much as I want to make Lobra pay for … this is a bit much. Maybe we ought to leave her here.”

“No.” Xaphira hissed, making it clear she wasn’t going to change her mind. “She’s the one advantage we have right now. I’ll be all right. Keep moving.”

Emriana started to argue, then snapped her mouth shut as she thought better of it. Xaphira could be as stubborn as Uncle Dregaul sometimes, and the girl sensed that it was one of those moments. That and the fact that I just casually mentioned that her own mother had died, Emriana thought, angry with herself. She must have a thousand questions, and we can’t even talk about it.

Finally, the two of them reached the last terrace and stopped under the cover of a trellis heavy with some vine sprouting huge, sweet-smelling white blossoms. Emriana could feel Xaphira letting Lobra sag down to the damp, rich earth beneath them, so she did the same. They sat for a while, Emriana wondering what Xaphira was thinking. Finally, she leaned over and said, “I’m sorry.”

Xaphira jerked her head around to peer at her niece. “Sorry?” she asked very faintly. “For what?”

“For whatever happened to you. For springing the news about Hetta on you the way I did. There’s a lot to be sorry about.”

“It’s all right,” Xaphira replied, and she reached out to find Emriana’s hand with her own. Giving it a comforting squeeze, she whispered, “Hush. They’ll hear us. Like you said, we’ll talk later.”

Emriana sighed but nodded, knowing her aunt was right. I hope there is a later, she thought, eyeing the open space between themselves and the trees.

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