The Sorcerer's Daughter by Terry Brooks

Author:Terry Brooks
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2016-05-24T07:00:00+00:00

Once, she even wheeled back on him, telling him he was walking too close. Reluctantly, he backed off a step, but then he reclaimed the distance a little while later.

She slowed as they reached an alehouse with a large wooden sign that read BURNING MAN. Below, charmingly depicted in garish red and yellow, was what was clearly supposed to be an image that reflected the name. That it in any way did was something of a stretch.

She turned to Imric. “The man we’ve come to see is Talis Closteralt. He’s the owner, and I’ve done business with him in the past. He’s done considerable trapping and hunting throughout the Wilderun before opening this establishment. He will know of the Murk Sink and the witch. He may even know how to find her.”

The shape-shifter nodded wordlessly. His brow furrowed, but she let it pass and forged ahead, pushing her way through a cluster of half-drunk men as she entered the building. She didn’t bother to glance back to see if Imric was following. She didn’t need to.

She worked her way through the patrons and serving girls to the long bar at the back of the room, spying Closteralt behind the counter. He was a slight wisp of a man, his hair thinning, his skin still brown from sun and weather even though he no longer worked outdoors. His sharp eyes flicked left and right as he moved from ale keg to patron and back again, always searching.

It took only moments for his gaze to light on her. She nodded a greeting and moved to the far end of the bar to wait.

When a fight broke out next to her, she could feel the tension in Imric as he moved in front of her, but she pulled him back, shaking her head. Fights happened in alehouses all the time. No one beyond those involved took it personally. In seconds a pair of very large men had moved over, separated the combatants, and thrown them through the door and into the street. Closteralt had nothing against fighting so long as it didn’t happen in his place of business.

The barkeep was in front of her seconds later, his eyes shifting from her to Imric and back again. “A friend?”

“A partner,” she corrected. “Can we talk somewhere less public?”

He took them behind the counter and through the kitchen to a small porch in the narrow alley behind. It was hardly private; there were windows opening onto the alley all around them, and the sounds of men and women enjoying themselves drifted down from more than a few.

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