Pierce, Tamora - Circle Of Magic 04 by Pierce Tamora

Author:Pierce, Tamora
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf

Briar, about to argue, choked. He had been inside the Air Temple's greenhouse only once, to steal the shakkan. After that, he wasn't even allowed to loiter near it, to glimpse at the unknown plant-treasures inside.

"Oh, didn't I mention that?" asked Rosethorn, her voice a little too innocent. "Crane's workroom is inside the

greenhouse." She sauntered into her room and closed the door.

"She must feel some better if she's tormenting people," said Lark, standing. "I'd better get to work." She walked into her workroom. Sandry followed and closed the door as Tris and Daja gathered the dishes.

He splashed through the sewers in a pure white novice's robe that was much too big for him. He wore nothing under it, and-to his shock and disgust-he was barefoot. His bare toes sank through inches of the kind of muck that made his guts crawl to think of it.

"Come on," ordered Flick. He saw her clearly, though neither of them carried lamps. "We'll miss your birthday party."

She was properly dressed in rags and shoddy boots, jigging in her eagerness to move along.

Briar muttered about not having a birthday, let alone a party, but he followed as quickly as the habit would allow. She was moving farther off down the pipe. "Wait up!" he called, trying to lift the habit's skirts. Flick only laughed and ran on.

The tunnel bent around a corner. When he cleared it, Flick was nowhere in sight. "Hey!" he yelled. "Where'd you get to?"

Her laugh emerged from an opening several feet away. He followed the sound and saw Flick well ahead. "Wait!"

"Briar's gettin' slo-ow, Briar's gettin' slo-ow," she taunted. He sighed. She had done this just before the Longnight holiday, when he'd followed her through a warren of streets in the worst part of the Mire. She'd almost given him the slip then, just as now. He wasn't about to lose her, not down here.

The pipe shrank, forcing him to walk hunched over. With every step he took, she seemed to take three. "You got to slow down!" he cried.

"You got to speed up," she retorted, and giggled.

"Will you just wait?" he demanded. The filthy water rose, eddying around his calves, then his knees. It dragged on the habit, pulling him back.

"I can't, Briar," she said, voice somber. "I can't wait, even if it is your birthday."

"Flick!" he cried, battling water and habit to close with her. "Stop!"

The girl shrugged and ran off down the pipe. Briar watched in panic as she got farther and farther away. Something bad lay ahead. If he lost sight of her, it would be the end. He shucked the habit impatiently and pumped his suddenly weak legs, fighting to gain speed. He was too slow; she was too quick. She grew smaller and smaller.

"Flick!" he screamed, and she was gone. He was awake.

If his bed hadn't been a mattress on the floor, he might have fallen out. Instead Briar thrashed his way out of the covers that tangled around him. Little Bear whined and licked sweat off the boy's face.

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