The Secrets of the Vanmars (Argetallam Saga Book 2) by Elisabeth Wheatley

Author:Elisabeth Wheatley [Wheatley, Elisabeth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Inkspelled Faery
Published: 2016-05-19T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

All this speculation, uncertainty, and worry was making Janir’s head hurt. Rubbing her temples, she shuffled out of the stables, tripping over a calico cat in the middle of the aisle. The cat hissed indignantly and swiped a paw in Janir’s direction.

Ignoring the self righteous feline, Janir made her way to the castle entry and the foot of a narrow staircase. As she passed through the second level on the way to her rooms, a rustling came from her left.

“Psst! Janir! Over here!”

The girl wearily turned her head and saw exactly the one she had been expecting, his red head peering out from behind the thick door leading out onto a balcony.

“What do you want, Karile?” It might not have been fair to blame him—she was the one who kept letting herself get dragged along—but she wasn’t in a particularly forgiving mood.

Karile wordlessly beckoned.

Sighing, Janir followed him.

As she emerged onto the balcony, the enchanter waited at the far end of the stonework, leaning against the rail encircling the balcony. From here they had a view of most the castle courtyard. The peasants were moving their animals into the castle for the night early, as Armandius doubtless commanded them to do—they didn’t yet know they could be in danger and that was probably for the best. No need to incite panic just yet.

Karile kept his back turned to her, head tilted to the sky, and hands folded behind his back. “This new development is most grave, most grave indeed.”

“My suspicions have been confirmed. The dwarves are aiding the Stlavish in their war against us.”

“Yes. You were right. Just as you were about the Argetallams and the Key of Amatahns,” Janir conceded, ignoring the little bite to her pride. “I know you’re going to tell me anyway, but what do you make of it?”

“Hmm. We need to discover why the dwarves are allied the Stlavish. That could be the answer to this entire riddle.”

“Are you going to talk like a general all day?” She folded her arms across her chest. “And how do you intend to get secrets out of a dwarf? You might be strong-willed, but I don’t think that even you are a match for one of them.”

Karile shrugged. “No idea. But I’ll fight one with my bare hands if I have to. Don’t let the scrawny look fool you, my hands are very strong.”

Janir looked down at her own hands—feminine hands with slim wrists and long fingers. They certainly didn’t look as if they could have wrung a man’s neck, but they had.

The first man she had killed was trying to murder Armandius, he had deserved what he got. She had no doubts about that and she didn’t regret having done it, but still…it was a bitter memory.

A flash of motion caught her eye.

Janir jumped. “Saoven! Don’t do that!”

The elf cocked his head, rather playfully for someone over seventy years old. “Do what?”

“Just…appear from nowhere. It’s very unsettling.”

“My apologies.” Saoven wore the hints of a smile. “Force of habit.

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