A Thread in the Tangle by Sabrina Flynn Read Free Book Online

eagerly sketching the nymph’s representation (minus the monkeys).   Isiilde chewed her lip in thought, made a mental note to ask Marsais about monkeys, and then turned her mind to Yasimina’s question.
    “Fyrsta is known as the Realm of Gods for three reasons,” she began with a lilting voice that danced around the chamber.   “The Sylph blessed Fyrsta and honored it by bestowing us with her Gift; the ability to channel her essence.
    “Secondly, inhabitants of Fyrsta live as long as they have the will to do so, barring sickness or violence, and when they die, their spirits return to the ol’ River where they may be reborn again,” Isiilde paused, resisting the urge to point out that this supported her representation of monkeys floating in the Spirit River, however, she didn’t comment, because everyone was staring (probably at her ears), and she did not like being the center of attention.   It was tiresome and tedious and she wanted to disappear.
    “The last reason is because the Sylph favored this realm above all others.   The Goddess of All placed her daughters on Fyrsta, where they were to grow and live, until they were gifted to a god who found favor with the Sylph.”   Isiilde liked this reason most of all.
    “That’s ridiculous!”   Mindle Sorethumb stood on the stone seat, fuming, and although the gnome was tall for his kind, he still managed to be shorter than his seated confederates.
    “That is certainly cute, but it’s a childish fantasy,” Zianna cut in before Mindle could further his tirade.   “If it makes you feel better, please, go on believing it.   But how do you account for the numerous laws regarding your kind?   If the Sylph favored nymphs, then they would hardly be bought and sold like horses—granted, expensive horses, but sold nonetheless,” Zianna reasoned, garnering a round of suggestive chuckles.
    The older woman’s lush lips curved in spiteful delight.   Zianna was never one to pass an opportunity to remind the nymph of her impending enslavement.
    “Ask the Archlord if you doubt me,” Isiilde shrugged, feigning an indifference she did not feel.
    “I would love to.   Unfortunately the Archlord has been gone for some time and only a fool would take the word of a nymph .”   Zianna might as well have said filth for all the disgust contained in that single word.
    “A fool answers, but a wise man questions,” Isiilde replied, quoting her master.
    “You are the fool, nymph,” growled Lord Kulthin, a formidable, arrogant apprentice who alternated between leering and sneering at the nymph, a trait that his Kilnish master, Shimei Al’eeth, greatly encouraged.
    “Nymphs are not human,” Kulthin continued.   “They are property, deemed as such by the Blessed Order of Zahra, the Guardian Of All That Is Good.”   He paused to touch fingertips reverently to lips.   “The Guardians of Iilenshar serve the Sylph.   If the Sylph favored nymphs, then I would not be in the market for one.”
    Lord Kulthin smiled, a sickly leer that made Isiilde’s skin crawl.   The ever tedious chorus of accompanying chuckles rippled through the room.
    “I keep forgetting you have to buy all your women, Kulthin” Isiilde taunted, knowing the comment would earn her another reprimand.   The other students shifted, attempting to conceal their laughter from the lord, but a few failed, earning them imperious glares.
    “How dare you talk to me in that manner, you insolent little—”
    “Kulthin!” Yasimina snapped before he could finish the insult.   “Both of you will be reported to your masters,” she stated, coolly.
    Isiilde stifled a sigh, nodded respectfully to Yasimina, and sat back down.   She idly wondered how long it would take Marsais to sort through her letters of reprimand when he returned to the Isle.   With as many as she had accumulated already, what was one more?
    She was tempted to leave the amphitheater and earn her second reprimand for the day.