Midnight Quest by Honor Raconteur Read Free Book Online Page A

apologize at her goddess’s impatient methods.
    Before she could delve further into her questions, the unmistakable sound of hoof beats from a single rider drifted toward her ears. She paused, head cocked slightly, trying to hear better. “A rider is coming our direction.”
    “You can hear that?” Sarvell twisted where he sat, his clothes making a slight scraping sound against the ground. “I can’t even see anything.”
    She smiled slightly when the sound changed from the sharp impact against packed dirt to the softer grass. “You should soon. He just left the road. He’s heading straight for us, so I think it’s Rialt.”
    “Let’s hope so.” His metal cup clinked a bit as he sat it down on the ground, and there was the sharp ring of metal on metal as his sword left its sheath.
    They waited in taut silence for several moments as the sound of hoof beats grew louder and more distinct. She knew it was Rialt when Sarvell blew out a relieved breath and the sword sang as it slid home again.
    “So, you fared alright, I see.” The tone was amused, but Sarvell clearly felt pleased to see him.
    “Oh, I had a fine time,” Rialt assured him with a suspiciously evil chuckle. “Watching them hop and scurry about most of the night was a sight. I have no had such fun in years. You two look fit as well. How was the climb down?”
    “Long. Arduous. If the gods have any pity, we’ll never be put into such a situation again.”
    “Perhaps an offering to Corbeird is in order,” Jewel suggested. “To avoid further misfortunes.”
    “Eh, it be no a bad thought,” Rialt agreed. Leather creaked as he dismounted, and the heavy way he landed on the ground suggested that he was more fatigued than he let on.
    “Come have breakfast,” Sarvell invited.
    ~*~*~*~
    The small size of the fire was a necessity to avoid drawing attention to themselves, but it also produced very little heat. Rialt watched as the little priestess drew closer, nearly putting her hands into the flames, little shivers dancing along her skin. The wind had a nip to it, true, but it was no unseasonably cold. Apparently she was used to being coddled indoors. Unlike him.
    Sarvell caught one of her hands and pushed a hot cup of tea into it, which she accepted with a thankful nod and smile. He watched her with open concern, but Rialt did no think it was because of the slight chill. He probably thought the same thing Rialt did—that it was nearly impossible to be on the run with someone blind.
    “Priestess,” Sarvell asked in a low, gentle tone, “can you tell me why you were locked in the dungeon?”
    She lowered the cup after talking a healthy swallow, head turned slightly in his direction. “Elahandra did not tell you?”
    “She told us very little,” Sarvell admitted with a dry smile that she could not see. “In fact, the only thing she told me was that you were in trouble, where to find you, and that Rialt would be joining me.”
    “Ah.” She lowered her cup even further, hands clenching around it. “Several of the ministers came to me and tried to persuade me to alter the barrier to exclude the Ramath Clan. I don’t know why—I naively thought that if I ignored politics, it would ignore me in turn—but I gathered that the Ramath Clan leaders had refused to do something. They wanted me to open the barrier, exposing them to the Daath, to force them to change their minds.”
    Sarvell shot Rialt a look that he barely noticed. This was no the first time that such a threat had been leveled against his clan because of some high-handed minister’s own agenda. The surprise was no in the threat, but that she had stood against it. This small, nearly defenseless girl had withstood captivity and death threats rather than leave his clan vulnerable to attack. She had no flinched from protecting people that she had never met, which meant she likely never would.
    She could no see him. She had no idea that she spoke in front of one of the Ramath Clansmen that