Longeye

Longeye by Steve Miller, Sharon Lee Read Free Book Online Page B

Book: Longeye by Steve Miller, Sharon Lee Read Free Book Online
Authors: Steve Miller, Sharon Lee
Tags: Fantasy
or the tiny naked woman who flew at her shoulder, bearing a bundle twice her size.
    "Did Altimere's library pall?" Becca inquired, as she gained the hall.
    Sian swept her an extravagant bow.
    "In the sense that I was not allowed to remove any books from their places on the shelf—it did. One rapidly grows weary of admiring handsome bindings."
    "In that case I am sorry to have kept you waiting so long."
    "Please don't trouble yourself on my account," Sian told her with an earnestness Becca could not but feel was utterly false. "I exist to serve."
    "You will then be relieved to learn that my horse is being brought 'round and that we may leave immediately your own has been saddled."
    Sian gave her a sideways smile, eyes glinting, and Becca had a moment to wonder if she was quite wise to tweak the Fey woman. And yet, she thought rebelliously, she was Sian's prisoner, hostage to the Queen's command. Why should she pretend it suited her?
    And if Sian were to place you into the sort of slavery from which you have only just recently won free? a cool voice murmured inside her head.
    Becca's step faltered. Nancy, taken by surprise, bumped her shoulder with the bundle she carried, wings fluttering in agitation. Ahead, the door opened slowly, drawn by a pair of Gossamers, a tentative cast to their appendages. Becca bit her lip and quickened her step. She did not want to give the Gossamers time to think about her departure and their part in it. For the Gossamers were also Altimere's creatures, and who knew what punishments they might be meted, when the master discovered that she was gone.
    "There is no need," Sian said at her shoulder, "to run, Rebecca Beauvelley."
    Becca took a breath, a tart rejoinder on her tongue—then forgot everything: her fear, her situation, and the unlikelihood of her escape from either. She had eyes and thought only for the chestnut filly standing there, her reins in the keeping of a Gossamer, ears cocked forward at an interested angle, the star on her forehead blazing bright white.
    "Rosamunde!"
    Joy lanced through her, and she was across the courtyard, her arm around that elegant neck. Her hat had fallen off in her rush, or Rosamunde had pushed it away, so she could lip Becca's hair.
    "Beautiful lady, I've missed you," she crooned, rubbing her cheek against the silken mane. Rosamunde whuffed, her breath warm and smelling of clover.
    "We'll never be parted again," Becca whispered. "I swear it."
    Rosamunde whuffed again, and there came the sound of hooves, walking purposefully.
    Becca raised her head as a dappled grey with a mane like sea-froth strolled, riderless into the courtyard, reins loose along the proud neck.
    "Well!" Sian said brightly behind her. "And here is my horse! We may leave at once." A low whistle followed. The grey whickered gently, strong ears flicking.
    "Brume, old friend." The Fey woman's voice was soft now; tender, as if she spoke to a child. "Wilt bear me home?"
    The grey blew and shook his head, as if laughing, then extended his right foreleg and bent his left, bowing, or so it seemed to Becca.
    "Your spirit is wide and your heart is great," Sian murmured, moving past Becca and Rosamunde as if they were as tenuous as Gossamers. "There is no other like you."
    She threw a long leg over the grey's back and settled herself in the saddle. Brume rose, and stood, the Engenium looking down at Becca.
    "Do you require assistance to mount, Rebecca Beauvelley?"
    Becca turned without answering, aware of a blur of color near Rosamunde's flank. Nancy still bore the bundle, though it must, Becca thought with a flash of guilt, weigh on her cruelly.
    She turned, fumbling one-handed with the strap on the saddlebag. Something cool brushed her fingers—tentacles, she saw, deft and sure. The strap loosened, the flap came up and Nancy flittered forward to slip the precious shawl-wrapped bundle inside.
    That done, the Gossamer pulled the strap tight.
    "Thank you, Nancy," Becca said, and to the Gossamer. "Help

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