Tom Holt by Earth Air Fire;Custard

Author:Earth, Air, Fire;Custard [Earth, Air, Fire;Custard]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2011-04-07T21:15:17+00:00

‘What did you say?’ Paul asked quietly.

‘I said it’s an ill wind that blows-‘

‘Not you. Her.’

Picky shrugged, grinning, and started to walk away. If he thought he was off the hook, however, owing to a sudden outbreak of moonlight, laughter, love and romance, he’d underestimated Sophie’s apparently limitless reserves of fury. ‘Not so fast,’ she snapped, ‘we haven’t finished with you. The explanation.’

‘But Sophe,’ Paul put in, and was ruthlessly shushed for his trouble. ‘Oh well,’ he mumbled under his breath, and went back to kneeling beside the fridge. He wasn’t quite sure why, but he knew that his place was still at its side.

Meanwhile, Picky was getting glowered at. ‘The explanation,’ Sophie repeated. ‘The one you were about to give us, remember, when the fridge appeared?’

‘Ah,’ Picky said. ‘That explanation. Well, I think we’ve more or less covered all that, really.’

‘No, we haven’t.’ Sophie didn’t stamp her foot, but her knee quivered. ‘You said there was someone after you, some him who could follow you anywhere except here; and presumably that’s why you staged your own death and got us all in this God-awful mess in the first place. So, who is he? Well?’

Picky sighed. ‘It’s embarrassing.’

‘Embarrassing!’ If Sophie had been a kettle, the room would have been full of steam. ‘You’re dead, he’s the most wanted man in Europe, and you’re shy? Oh, for-‘

‘All right.’ For a moment, Picky snatched back a little of his old, arrogant authority. ‘If it means so much to you, I’ll tell you, if you’ll just shut up for a moment.’ He took a deep breath and sat down on the edge of a shelf, leaning forward, the sword across his knees. ‘It was all a long time ago,’ he said. ‘A matter of honour, I guess you could call it. There was - well, let’s say there was a very bad man, back in the old country. A magician, goes without saying. He was being a real pain, beating up on my family and friends, I was young and just getting into the hero biz. When you’re that age, of course, you think you can do any bloody thing. So I challenged him to a duel. Holmgang,’ Picky went on, shaking his head slightly. ‘Sorry, technical term. The two of you go to an island out in one of the big fjords, and only one of you comes back. It’s a pretty big thing, very solemn, absolutely no cheating and absolutely absolutely no running away. Anyhow, we rowed out to the island in a little boat - didn’t talk much, naturally, I rowed and he sat there hating me, it was all a bit fraught - and then we started fighting. And - well,’ Picky said, turning his head away, ‘he was winning, there was nothing I could do, so I ran. Not very far,’ he added, ‘because it was a small island. After that, I swam. The point is, I broke the rules and earned undying dishonour. Also,’ he added bitterly, ‘I lost.

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