Sunbolt (The Sunbolt Chronicles) by Intisar Khanani Read Free Book Online

accidentally mixed their order and left a gap. But the wards fall into place around me perfectly.
    I’ve cast this spell dozens of times, using it as a protection when I’ve slept in abandoned buildings or on rooftops. I wonder what my mother would have thought, if she could see me. I’ve never heard of a mage using prayer beads, but they’re stone, the traditional material for setting wards. Keeping them on a string retains their order so that I don’t have to recast the spell when I need it. I only need to reawaken it, and, when I am done, be careful to gather the stones in the same order that I lay them out.  
    My beads also reduce the chance that anyone will notice my magic-working, for an old spell draws less attention than a bright, spangly new one.
    Wiping a thin sheen of sweat from my brow, I pocket the final bead and head out. I find Rafiki and the Ghost both waiting in a shadowed alley a block inland from the esplanade.  
    “Where’s the carriage?” Rafiki asks, his voice ringing out loud in the empty alleyway. The Ghost touches his elbow, quieting him, but he too looks at me, waiting. For once I’m glad that his hood shadows his face.  
    “I couldn’t get one. The proprietor didn’t trust me.”
    Rafiki swears. At least he doesn’t ask about the coin purse.
    “It’s all right,” I say, keeping my eyes on the darkness where the Ghost’s face would be. “I’ve found a place for them—a vacant building, safe enough until we can get a carriage. There should be one free by morning.”
    I can’t see the Ghost’s hands beneath his cloak, but I would guess they’re clenched around the hilt of his short sword and his dagger. He must be the most clean-mouthed man I’ve ever met: When he gets upset, he just goes quiet.
    “Where’s the building?” he asks.  
    I describe its location and setup. Just as I finish, Kenta darts into our alleyway. In his tanuki form, he hardly comes to my knee, his honey-colored fur so thick he looks more plump than dangerous. His legs and belly are covered in darker fur that travels up his neck and wraps around each side of his face to his eyes, suggesting a mask that doesn’t bridge his nose. His ears, twin triangles atop his rounded face, are furred as well.  
    He pauses, brown eyes reflecting the twilight, then tilts his head in a question.
    “She couldn’t get a carriage,” Rafiki explains. “Apparently—”
    “We’re walking,” the Ghost says, cutting him off. “Rafiki, Kenta, with me. Hitomi, you stay here.”
    I bristle at his tone. I don’t mind missing the conversation with the Degaths, but I’m the only one who’ll be able to feel the wards I’ve set. “Fine, but I’m coming with you to the building.”
    The Ghost hesitates. “No,” he says, and walks around the corner. Kenta follows, sending me a quick glance, ears perked. I try not to glare at him. Rafiki is already gone.
    I turn and kick the wall, which only hurts my foot. How could I have known that fish-brained proprietor wouldn’t rent to me? Is it my fault I don’t look like some rich kid?  
    I put my foot down gingerly, curling my toes to see if I’ve broken anything, and run over my exchange with the Ghost again. I find myself grinning wickedly. He hadn’t barred me from going altogether, just going with them .  
    I follow after the others, setting a brisk pace until I catch sight of them again. Rafiki and the Ghost wait just before the intersection with the road that lines the esplanade. I take up a position at the corner of a nearby building, peering around the wall as Kenta trots back into view, followed by a lone man. Lord Degath. The Ghost must have told him to look for Kenta—or rather, a dog that looked like Kenta.  
    In the fading light, I can just discern the barely visible shape of the Ghost’s flowing black cloak, as he steps forward to meet Lord Degath. I can’t make out the conversation from here—they speak with lowered voices—but Degath is clearly