Lord of Snow and Shadows (Tears of Artamon, Book 1) by Sarah Ash

Author:Sarah Ash [Ash, Sarah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780553803341
Amazon: 0553586211
Publisher: Spectra
Published: 2003-07-29T00:00:00+00:00

Twilight had faded into night, and the Water Gardens were shrouded in the gloomy autumnal fog that Elysia had already come to associate with Mirom. She shivered, pulling her cloak up to cover her mouth so that she did not breathe in too much of the damp, chill air.

That infuriating man Matyev! Twice now he had interrupted her meetings with Altan Kazimir—and twice now she had come away frustrated, with only glimmers of answers to her questions.

Lamps had been lit along the paths but their thin light illumined little. As she hurried under the black, dank foliage and dripping branches, she began to wonder if she had taken a wrong turn. She had been walking briskly for some minutes and had come no closer to the gates.

Surely they would not lock the Water Gardens, with so many people still inside the Tea Pavilion?

A man loomed up out of the fog. She slowed her pace, glancing behind, to see if there was anyone else on the path. To her dismay, she realized she was quite alone. She turned around and began to hurry back the way she had come.

The man’s pace hastened to catch up with her.

The path divided into two ahead; she grabbed her skirts and broke into a run, taking the left fork.

Mustn’t panic. Try to retrace steps . . . find the Pavilion . . . be safe there.

She had lost all sense of direction now, but she could see the glow of a lamp up ahead. She began to hurry toward it—and ran straight into the arms of the shadow pursuing her.

“Steady there,” he said. The dim lamplight illuminated the warm brown eyes of Feodor Velemir.

“Count Velemir?” she cried. And then anger replaced relief and she shook herself free of his steadying grip. “What were you doing? Following me?”

“Protecting you, madame,” he said with a wry smile.

“Am I so important that the spymaster of all Muscobar must devote his valuable time to following me?”

“Ah. So Kazimir told you.”

“I wonder why you never thought to do so yourself.” To her annoyance she found she was trembling like a frightened schoolgirl. Pull yourself together! she told herself. Was she trembling with fear—or anger? “But was it really me you were protecting? Or were you trailing someone else?”

He did not answer.

“I came to you for help, count. I have answered all your questions with complete candor. And in return I have received nothing but evasions.”

Still he said nothing. The fog seemed to grow more dense around them. Then he said, “Tell me what it is you want, Elysia.”

“I want to return to Vermeille. My work here is done. It’s obvious to me that no one here can—or will—do anything to help Gavril. Perhaps one of your agents, count, could send word to my housekeeper, Palmyre, to tell her I am coming home?” And, pulling her hood closer about her head, she set out again along the path.

Velemir hurried after her, blocking her way again.

“Do you doubt me, Elysia? I made you a promise—and I always keep my word.

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