A Thousand Glass Flowers (The Chronicles of Eirie 3) by Prue Batten Read Free Book Online Page B

dervish and the hammock creaked as i t moved in unison. Weaving his way across to the chest, Gio grabbed the other boots and advanced at a run on Finnian who plucked him close as the ship slewed. ‘And my Papa has the best stories to te ll because he’s met all kinds. Mortal and Other.’
    ‘Has he indeed? What Others then?’
    ‘Oh Færan, Hobs, a goblin once, some tiny Siofra who hid in a boat he was working on at the time.’
    ‘Anyone malicious?’ For the world is full of malicious folk at every turn, young Gio.
    ‘No…’ But then the boy’s face brightened. ‘He saw an urisk once. The fellow just sat on a rock in the middle of one of the marsh ril ls and played a tune on pipes. Terrible enchanted it was and Papa was going to stuff his ears with some cheese Mama had given him for midday but the urisk saw him and asked what he thought of the music. ‘ Plain wonderful,’ says my Papa. ‘ As if Aine has kissed the pipes you blow.’ And the urisk bowed and asked if he could share Papa’s meal and Papa knew that to deny such a request was to bring down all manner of i lls so he welcomed the urisk. Do you know what his name was? He told Papa. Can you belie ve it? Cos name-swapping is bad with Others, so they say. But not this time.’ Gio’s face had brightened, a rosier tint creeping across the wretched shade of earlier.  His eyes shone as he told his little story.  Finnian nodded his head and the boy conti nued blithely. ‘It was N olius although he likes Nolly. He was kind enough to my Papa. Said good things wou ld happen to his son one day.’ He gave a grin of sorts. ‘That’s me. I’m the son.’
    Your father met Nolius? Well, well. Finnian remembered the redoubtable urisk who had visi ted Castello for a short time. A very short time. As he left he said to Finnian, ‘This place is a pustule, a boil on the backside of Eirie. I would get you gone, Finnian. Bigger and better things await outside.’ He had thought then, I would but I can’t get past her.
    Gio push ed on the last boot and stood. ‘There, sir, I’d better go to the cook and see if the Captain’s meal’s ready. He eats in any weather.’
    The boy’s smile lit the shadows of the storm-tossed cabin as he departed, bravado on the small face . A thick and insidious thread of jealousy floated after him because Finnian envied the chi ld the familial love and care. Something he had craved all his lif e, something he had never had. It invoked the sour taste of memory and he grabbed a pewter goblet an d flung it against the planks. No one would hear; it was just another thump amongst many.
     

Chapter Five
     
    Lalita
     
     
    ‘Lalita t he Mad.  Lalita the Confused.’ The afrit grabbed his t oes and rocked back and forth. ‘They thi nk you’re insane. And do you know, little scribe, the odalisques are scared of you. They pass by your apartments in threes and fours or with a eunuch to guard them for they think you will come leaping from your room, frothing at the mouth.’
    Lalita tried hard to ignore the little Other who seemed to spring out of the lattice work at his leisure, an edge to his manner, like the sharp bite at t he end of mouthful of sherbet. She had never forgiven him for the cruel mention of her brother and yet she was sure he underlined what she knew. As he rocked on the windowsill above her worktable, he knocked her pens and they cascaded over a quire of papers, narrowly missing the sheet on which she currently worked.
    ‘Mind, afrit.’ She grabbed at the quills and placed them back in their jar, her hands g entle with the goose-feathers. Unlike her fellow scribes who preferred swan-feathers, she persisted in the use of the domestic feather because she felt swans represented something distinctly Other and should be respected as such.
    ‘Wo uld you like to know my name?’ The afrit gave a sly grin.
    ‘Name-giving means obligation and I have no wish to be obliged to you or any Other.’ She spoke quietly, her