Total pages in book: 179
Estimated words: 169943 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 850(@200wpm)___ 680(@250wpm)___ 566(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 169943 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 850(@200wpm)___ 680(@250wpm)___ 566(@300wpm)
Hawk marches us up to the house and then stands in front of the door, guarding it and preventing us from going inside. He crosses his arms over his broad chest, and I’m disgusted to see he’s barely broken a sweat. Meanwhile, I’m positively dripping. Lark tosses her pack to the ground, and when he doesn’t chastise her, I slip mine off, too. The relief is overwhelming.
“That was pathetic,” he tells us.
“Such flattery,” I manage to gasp out, hands resting on my knees. By the five gods, I am exhausted.
“I mean it,” Hawk growls out, glaring at me. “You think this is all fun and games? You think when you’re two leagues under the city and a tunnel collapses on you that you’re going to have the stamina to dig yourself out? You all need to get better. Stronger. Faster. Be ready to do this again at dawn. All of you.” He points at the slitherskin. “Leave your house behind this time. I mean it.”
Kipp licks his own eyeball with his long tongue, and I don’t know if that’s agreement or an insult.
“You’re dismissed for the night,” Hawk says, stepping aside from the door. “Stay in the nest. From now on, if you go anywhere, you have to clear it with me before. Tomorrow is your first full day of training and you’re going to need your strength.” As we file in, he glares at Lark. “And no drinking.”
“Of course not,” she says sweetly.
I walk inside and sit down on the closest seat near the cold fireplace. The windows have been shut tight and the darkness is welcoming, as I just want to crawl away and hide. My feet throb in time with my pulse, and I bend over to unlace my boots, only to have Gwenna march to my side and grab my arm.
“We have a problem,” she whispers in my ear. “Let’s go upstairs and talk.”
I don’t know that I can make it up the stairs, but at least up there I can take my sweaty clothes off. I consider this and then abandon my seat by the fireplace. The others are heading in the opposite direction, toward the kitchen. They haven’t noticed Gwenna heading upstairs. With a sigh, I follow my former maid up each step with painful thumps. It eases my heart a little to see Squeaker curled on the bed. The cat looks up and howls for dinner the moment she glimpses me.
“One moment,” I tell the cat with an affectionate scratch to her ears. I slip off my boots and stockings, then peel the rest of the clothes off. They’re as sweaty as a devil’s arse and I don’t know how I’m going to get them clean for the morning, but that’s a problem for tomorrow morning. I pull off layers, finally removing my corset—damp with sweat—and scratching at the skin underneath. “Oh gods, that’s better.”
Gwenna puts down fresh food and water for Squeaker, then leans against the door, saying nothing. I put on a fresh chemise, and it feels like heaven. When I dramatically flop down onto the bed in the place the cat just vacated, she finally speaks. “We have a big stinking problem, Lady Aspeth.”
“Just Aspeth,” I remind her, fighting back a yawn. By all the gods in their realms, I’m exhausted. I continue to scratch at my waist, enjoying the cool air against my overheated skin. “We’re incognito.”
“That’s the problem,” she hisses. “While you were busy chasing after our teacher, I chatted with Mereden, the priestess, for a bit.”
She seems sweet enough, if overly teary-eyed. I didn’t pay much attention to her because she kept weeping and praying, as if being part of Magpie’s fledgling team is the worst thing to ever happen to her. She wore her veil, too, as if protesting in some quiet way. “Dedicated to Asteria, is she?”
“Not exactly. Apparently”—Gwenna exaggerates the word, her hands on her hips as she approaches me—“Mereden is from the Convent of Divine Silence. Sound familiar?”
It’s where a lot of wealthy women are sent when they are widowed. “It does.”
“Also apparently, Mereden offered to tithe a share of her guild income if they would write her a letter of recommendation and let her come for training. The church is looking to acquire more artifacts, and so they reached an agreement with Magpie. But Mereden fears her father is going to be quite upset when he finds out she’s here and not at the convent. And do you know who her father is?”
I’m too tired to think straight. Fighting back a yawn, I shrug. “Is he rich?”
“He’s Lord Vatuo Morsell of Morsell Hold’s youngest son. She’s the lord holder’s granddaughter.”
I blanch. She’s right, that’s not good. I’ve met Lord Morsell at several parties. He’s got a long, wiry beard and ropes of braided hair that are beaded with the finest shells. I remember that much. I also remember that his sons were quite a bit older than me and thus not considered good marriage candidates, so we didn’t visit them often. But holders travel in tight circles, and we all know one another.