Changespell Legacy by Doranna Durgin Read Free Book Online

the threads that needed to be tugged and followed and eventually cut.
    But it occurred to her, too . . .
    Maybe she just didn't want to be alone.
    The tingle of the courier ring against Suliya's left forefinger came as such a surprise that she absently scratched the finger twice before realizing she'd been summoned. She left her satisfied thoughts about her forthcoming lessons—along with the tack she'd been cleaning and her certainties that she could play by the rules despite her disagreements with riding theory. That young gelding Jess had been on today, for instance . . . she mused about it on the way up the stairs. She'd have held the rein closer to his shoulder, not further out, giving him firm restriction instead of more room. But it didn't matter; she'd just do as Jaime said in lessons, and Carey would soon understand that Suliya had ambitions.
    Her confident thoughts came to a stuttering halt at the top of the stairs; she faced the long hallway—apprentice rooms off to the right, Arlen's workroom to the left, and his personal rooms at the end—for the first time since her arrival here. And she hadn't been expecting the soft sounds of crying from the workroom.
    Across the hall, sounds of conversation drifted out—a brief exchange of raised voices, Carey's included.
    With hesitation, she approached the apprentice room—a peek into the workroom showed her nothing, although someone was there . . . somewhere . . . crying.
    A glance into the apprentice room stopped her short. An older woman with darker skin than hers whom she'd seen but didn't know, Arlen's older apprentice, Carey, Jess, Jaime . . . they all gathered near the dispatch desk, making the room seem small. Jaime had her arms clenched around herself so tightly it was a wonder she could breathe; her eyes were red-rimmed and haunted. Jess looked for the world like she wanted to be holding Carey's hand, but he was busy gesturing, a sheet of dispatch paper in his grip, so she did what Suliya occasionally saw of her—she crowded in close, touching Carey now with her shoulder, now with her thigh, and the next moment briefly connecting along the length of their bodies. If she'd been a horse, Suliya realized with a blink, Jess would have been hanging her head over Carey's shoulder.
    Strange to realize how often she had probably done just that, and long before she was ever human.
    Burnin' hells , Suliya'd never seen any single one of them so obviously upset.
    Jess noticed her first—somehow—twisting around to look at the doorway, nostrils slightly flared and head raised; they all looked at her after that. With the sudden feeling she wasn't supposed to be there at all, Suliya raised her hand. "Ay," she said, unable to keep a defensive note from her voice. "Summons. I thought maybe Arlen was back."
    "No," Carey said grimly.
    Natt shook his head. "It was me."
    Suliya took a step inside the room, more confident. "What's going on?"
    Carey gave a slight shake of his head. "Couriers receive assignments, not explanations." But he waved her off when she would have responded. "In this case, you're going to find out sooner than later anyway."
    He seemed to notice for the first time how Jess crowded him; finally he took her hand.
    Suliya took another step into the room, now flanked by a work desk on either side; she looked from Carey to Jaime to Natt, and at last to the dispatch wizard at the desk. The woman looked exhausted; she wouldn't meet Suliya's eyes.
    For a moment, no one would meet her eyes.
    Suliya felt the first trickle of fear.
    "There's been some kind of . . . incident with the Council," Natt said. "It . . . appears as though they may all be dead."
    "The Council ?" Suliya said, openly skeptical because of the shock of the idea. But she looked at their faces again—she looked at Jaime, at her anguish and denial, then at Carey's determination. She'd heard about him . . . his high standards, his resolve to do what had to be done when things got grim . . . his