Briar's Book by Tamora Pierce Read Free Book Online

vivid figure. He pointed at the Water dedicate with a finger that trembled with frustration.
“‘Intemperate’?”
he repeated. “Gods bless me, you people would make the
moon
intemperate. Last year you ran out of bandages on the eve of a pirate attack, and now, now
this
– ”
    “How could we have known?” wailed the dedicate. “We have enough for normal diseases. Who would have dreamed a new one could appear and we might need ten times our supply!”
    By this time Lark and Sandry had come to see what was going on. Little Bear thrust his big head between Daja’s knees for a better view, rocking her. Daja could sense Tris overhead as the redhead watched from an attic window.
    “Who would have
dreamed?”
demanded Frostpine. “Who would – You’re
supposed
to dream, of anything, of
everything.
Now scat!”
    The dedicate ran. Frostpine watched her briefly, then stormed into the house. Everyone got out of his way.
    “You shouldn’t yell at her,” Lark said reproachfully.
    “Of course I should,” Frostpine barked. “Gods bless us all, Lark, but our Water dedicates would try the patience of a
stone!”
    “Well, yes,” admitted Lark, sitting at the table. “What did they forget this time?”
    “The warded boxes, the ones for samples of body fluids from the sick,” he said, sinking down on the bench across from her. “They have five.”
    Lark put a hand to her mouth. “That’s not even enough for a disease we know, where all that’s needed is to see if it’s changed.”
    “Crane threw a fit – I don’t blame him – and sent them to me,” Frostpine said bitterly. “If I were Moonstream, I’d scatter the whole lot to the four winds.” He looked at Daja. “Bundle up everything you’ll need for two or three days,” he said with regret. “I can’t turn out enough of these boxes on my own. We’re going to work till we drop, I’m afraid.”
    Daja raced upstairs.
    “She’s leaving too?” asked Sandry. She stood by the household shrine, a bit of forgotten needlework in one hand. Her eyes were huge.
“Three
of us gone?”
    “What do you mean, ‘three of us’?” Frostpine asked.
    Sandry vanished into her room as Lark explained. When Daja came downstairs, Tris in her wake, Frostpine was leaning against Sandry’s open door. “So you see, Rosethorn has plenty of experience,” he was telling the young noble. “Even if she doesn’t know what causes a disease, she’s been known to hold them off with sheer force of will.” He turned to Daja. “Ready?”
    Daja nodded. She gave Little Bear a final scratch around the ears and followed her teacher out of the house.
    Sandry ran into her room, to the front window. She waved her handkerchief at Daja and Frostpine as if they were on parade and kept waving until they had gone from view.
    “Lark?” she heard Tris say out in the main room. “I’m sorry.”
    “I know, dear,” murmured Lark. “Just remember – your sharp tongue cuts.”
    Sandry reached into the leather pouch she always wore around her neck and drew out a thread circle. It was thick, undyed wool marked by four lumps, each spaced equally apart, with no way to tell where the thread began or ended. It was the first thing she had ever spun, lumps and all, except that originally it had been just a thread, its two ends separate. It had become a circle when, trapped underground in an earthquake, she had spun the four young people’s magics together to make all of them stronger. As far as Sandrilene fa Toren was concerned, that thread
was
the four of them.
    As long as
this
is together,
we’re
together, she told herself. Even if we aren’t in the same house, we’re still one.
    Briar spent the rest of his first afternoon in quarantine boiling, then hanging up to dry, the cloths used to tend Flick. She was less alert as the afternoon wore on, dozing more or just staring at the ceiling. By sunset Briar almost missed the chores he would have had at Discipline Cottage – they would have