Death of a Darklord by Laurell K. Hamilton Read Free Book Online

you had a talent for sewing—not a learned talent, but something you were born with. You were born to be a seamstress, or a tailor. But you were never allowed to study sewing. Then one day you made a beautiful ball gown. A week later you made another even more lovely than the first.
    ”Now, if you’d been allowed to study sewing from a young age, you might have decided to sew ceremonial robes, or winter woolies, but because you left your talent unused, the talent chose to make ball gowns. You might be happier knitting shawls or designing simpler dresses for more modest occasions, but it is too late. Your sewing has decided to make party dresses for the rich.” He studied her face for a moment, as if trying to gauge whether his analogy was working.
    ”Why don’t you know what I’m thinking now?” she asked. His voice broke into a lovely grin. ”Very good, Elaine, very good. When you drew away from me that last time, you closed off more than just your body. You closed your thoughts as well. It was neatly done. But I think the fact you so quickly figured out I could no longer read your thoughts is even more promising.” ”But I don’t know how I did it.”
    ”Think to how your body felt when you drew back. Think of the sensations. What did it feel like?”
    Elaine thought about that for a moment. Had it felt like anything? She couldn’t remember. She had moved away from him physically, but had she done anything else? Elaine closed her eyes, trying to recall what it had felt like. The sensation along her skin had retreated when she moved backward. The magic itself had moved back with her, inside her. She had broken contact with Gersalius. She had closed off her mind and her magic to him. That was a comforting thought. She opened her eyes.

    ”Tell me,” the mage said.
    Elaine told him what she had felt.
    ”You have a wondrous grasp for the basics. What a pupil you would be.” His face was eager, as if he had just this minute invented her. ”What would it mean to be your pupil?” She was amazed at her own question. Was she really contemplating studying magic? Yes, she was. ”The more time you could spend with me, the faster you would learn. The faster you would be able to control your powers.”
    ”Would I need to move to your home?”
    ”You would be most welcome, or I could move here. I would be willing to do that. Under normal circumstances with someone as quick to learn, I would teach from her home. I would not willingly separate a young mage from her family and friends.”
    The thought sat unspoken between them: these were not normal circumstances.
    ”Jonathan will never allow a mage to live under his roof.”
    ”Even if it is you?”
    Elaine shook her head violently, and her hair whipped across her face. She didn’t want to think about it.
    ”I don’t know.”
    ”If we could not convince him to let a strange mage live under his roof, perhaps it would be easier to accept after you are trained.” It was logical, but Jonathan’s hatred of wizards was not logical.
    Blaine called from the table, ”It might work.”
    ”And I thought we were having a private conversation,” Gersalius said, but there was no anger to his voice.
    Blaine came to stand beside them, grinning. ”If you move in here, there are no private conversations.”
    ”There is that small hut on the grounds,” Konrad said. ”We would help you make any repairs and move your things in.”
    ”Do you really think Jonathan would allow a mage to live inside the fort walls?” Elaine stared up at the tall warrior. She tried to find some hint that he wouldn’t have made this effort for just anyone, that it was special just for her. His face was unreadable. Could she read his thoughts, as Gersalius had read hers?
    The mage lightly touched her hand. No magic, just enough contact to gain her attention. ”I would not try it, were I you. We often find out things we do want to know. Besides, how do you think Jonathan would feel knowing you