The Luck Uglies by Paul Durham

Author:Paul Durham
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2014-03-11T04:00:00+00:00

What Rye and her family anticipated, but couldn’t see, was the gathering of soldiers outside the cottage. On the count of three, two soldiers rushed forward and put their shoulders into the door. Of course, it was unlocked and slid gently open, sending them tumbling onto the cottage floor. Three more rushed in behind them, peering from behind their shields as they charged first into Abby’s bedroom, then the girls’. They checked under the beds and in the wardrobes and found nothing more than an enormous, bored-looking cat that didn’t even bother to hide.

Once they determined the cottage was empty and sent word outside, a most unexpected visitor ducked through the front door of the cottage. Morningwig Longchance himself stepped delicately over the threshold, consuming the room with his height. His war helmet and plated boots shone and bore not a single scuff or dent. He held a sword as long and thin as his legs. With its jeweled handle and engraved blade, it looked like it had been pulled from a display over a castle fireplace.

Longchance looked down at Constable Boil, who had hobbled in to join him. Boil used a walking stick and his foot was heavily bandaged.

“You’re certain this is the correct house?” Longchance said.

“Yes, yes, my Lord,” Boil said. “Quite certain.”

Longchance beckoned to an attendant, who extended a purse of orange slices. He sucked one and squinted his black eyes to examine the room.

Longchance pulled at one of the thin tails of beard that dangled over his throat and paced from door to window. After a few moments, his eyes narrowed farther. He cast the orange rind on the floor and pointed his sword toward the far wall.

“There,” he said, waving at a torn painting. “Bring a lantern.”

Longchance and two soldiers approached the wall. Longchance pressed his face against it and examined the cracks. He removed a glove and ran his finger along them. He sniffed it. Then, with a shove, he pushed open the hidden door.

The lantern light bounced off the walls of the windowless workshop. The table was still cluttered with countless trinkets. But aside from that, nothing or no one was in there.

“Someone warned them,” Longchance said to Boil, who was studying the mysterious little room. “This cow path has always been a haven for Luck Ugly sympathizers. Drag the other Puddlers from their hovels. Find out who it was.”

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