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

excuse was rather pathetic.   “I’m very sorry, Wise One.”
    “Your master instructs you well, Isiilde, surprisingly so given his—well yes, at any rate, I’m sure there was nothing new for you to learn,” Yasimina replied with a dismissive wave of her hand.   She lifted the hem of her robes, and climbed the large steps, as graceful and elegant as a queen.   Isiilde stood expectantly as the Wise One approached, marveling at the way she moved, flowing like water over rocks.   Yasimina always made her feel woefully clumsy.
    “I wished to have a quick word with you before you go to your next lesson with Mistress Thira,” Yasimina said, gliding to a halt in front of her student.   Isiilde’s heart sank, she had forgotten all about Thira’s lesson and even worse, she would be late for the dreadful class.   “I should warn you—some knowledge is better left buried.”
    Isiilde stared up at the willowy woman in confusion.   “I don’t understand,” she finally admitted.
    “I don’t doubt your claim for a moment.   I’m sure the Archlord told you that nymphs are daughters of the Sylph, however, when it comes to the Blessed Order, it is unwise to call their teachings into question,” Yasimina confided.   “As Kulthin pointed out, the Order has the Guardians backing and your master has always shown a blatant disregard for the younger gods.   Though he may be foolish, or brave enough to challenge them, I would not be so quick to, especially when he’s not here to support you.”
    The cool voice of reason left the nymph even more confused.   Unfortunately, Yasimina didn’t offer anything more than that.   The Wise One folded her thin hands inside her robes and continued up the stone steps without another word.
    Isiilde gathered her supplies, stuffed her parchment inside her knapsack, tossed the strap over her shoulder, and darted up the stairs, perplexed as ever.   Why would an esteemed Order, whose sole purpose was to preserve knowledge, be so quick to dismiss the truth of a matter?
    Try as she might, Isiilde did not have time to unravel two thousand years of history.   Focused on her goal, she lost her train of thought, forgot why she was confused, as well as ever being confused, and ran for all that she was worth.   The running redhead was hard to miss as she darted down the corridors, weaving in and out of the castle’s inhabitants with near panic.
    Thira Olander, Mistress of Novices and High Alchemist of the Order.   Just hearing the woman’s name made Isiilde shudder, but she was not alone in that regard.   Every apprentice and novice, as well as full-fledged Wise Ones, avoided the Mistress of Novices, however, things were different for the nymph, because Thira liked her—like sharks like fish, or snakes like mice.
    Isiilde had given up trying to please the Wise One.   If she had been a perfect apprentice (which she wasn’t) then it wouldn’t have made a jot of difference, because she was Oenghus’ charge.   To say Oenghus and Thira didn’t get along would be like saying the Great Expanse was warm.   Isiilde’s connection to Oenghus was bad enough, but even worse, was the fact that she was faerie.   In the High Alchemist’s mind, a nymph had no business being on the Isle, no matter how gifted she might be.
    Isiilde skidded to a stop, staring forlornly at a reinforced oak door that smelled of spoiled eggs and rotten fish.   She curled her nose in distaste.   It was the door that led into the Alchemy workshop.
    As far as Isiilde was concerned, it might as well have been the Gates leading into the Nine Halls.
    Panic threatened to overwhelm her, but she stood her ground, taking a deep breath to gather what small shreds of courage she possessed.   Nymphs were not known for their courage, however, this particular one managed to defy centuries of inbred cowardice, and open the door (a crack at any rate).
    Thira must have heard the nymph’s frantic footsteps, because when Isiilde