[Hurog 01] - Dragon Bones by Patricia Briggs Read Free Book Online Page A

keep is damaged, it does not hurt you. Does it hurt you when your body is hurt?”
    â€œYes,” he whispered, tensing.
    Well, if I’d spent the last fifteen years as my father’s slave, I’d have whispered an answer, too. From all accounts, my grandfather had been worse. Deliberately, I yawned. It was late, I needed to sleep.
    â€œMy father never mentioned you at all.”
    â€œStrategically speaking, it is better if I am secret from your enemies—a harmless ghost that wanders the halls.” He hesitated, then ventured, “I prefer to keep my presence quiet. I don’t like people very much.”
    Nor would I, I thought, after so many years of serving Hurogs.
    â€œRight.” I said. “Here are my orders for now. Continue your protection of my sister. I’d like to meet you here each night when I am alone. Other than that, do as you will.”
    â€œDo you want me to protect you, too?”
    I grinned. Powerful he might be, I was willing to accept his word on that, but he was half my weight. “I’ve had years to learn to do that. If I can’t, well, then I’m not fit to be Hurogmeten, am I?”
    â€œThere are those who say you aren’t fit anyway,” he said, a challenge in his voice.
    I couldn’t decide if he was testing my temper or if he still half believed my act. Maybe he knew the truth better than I did. Abruptly, I felt tired.
    â€œYes. Well, now. I’d be sad if they thought me competent after all the effort I put into shoving my stupidity down my father’s throat. I can hardly hold that against them, can I?”
    He laughed, though I thought it was because he believed it necessary rather than because my words actually amused him. He was silent for a while then asked, “Why are you pretending to be stupid?” He hesitated and said tentatively, “I always wondered about that. It seemed so odd that you would spend all those hours in the library. But then you would read and read but never seemed to understand what it was you were reading.” As he spoke, he bounced off the bed and strode oh so casually out of my reach.
    â€œThought I might be looking at the pictures or the pretty inks?” I asked, amused.
    â€œWhat happened when your father hit you that time? If it wasn’t brain damage? And even an idiot listening to you now could see that your brain is fine.” He grinned shyly, a boy venturing an opinion or a slave flattering the master, but he’d put furniture between his body and me.
    Like Pansy, I thought, he’d learn that I wouldn’t harm him. Besides, I’d pried into his private pain; it was only fair to give him the same opportunity. “It damaged something,” I said. “I couldn’t speak at all.” I remembered how terrifying it had been to have thoughts that wouldn’t turn into words.
    â€œYou weren’t just frightened?” asked Oreg.
    Looking at him, I could see he knew what it was to be so frightened he couldn’t speak. Pity choked my reply. “No.”
    â€œYou couldn’t walk, either,” he said speculatively.
    I nodded. “Or stand or anything else.” It had taken Stala and me years to strengthen my left side until I was as fast with my left hand as I was with my right. Sometimes I dreamt that the strange, overpowering numbness had over-taken my left arm again.
    â€œYou used to do magic—make flowers bloom for your mother.” Oreg was relaxing a bit. He’d settled on the bench near the door.
    â€œI can still find things. Ciarra nearly scared me out of a winter’s growth today when I discovered she was suddenly so far below me. I take it she didn’t fall out of the tunnel like I did? You led her by another path?” He nodded. “But otherwise, I can’t work magic anymore. I can feel it but not work it.”
    â€œBut you aren’t stupid. Why did you pretend?”
    â€œSo my father