The Darkness of Glengowyn by Isabo Kelly Read Free Book Online Page A

special arrows, she’d often gone for days with only a minimum of food and water. Usually what she got came from Einar’s own hands.
    “We’ll be stronger for any fighting or fleeing if we eat,” he said finally.
    “There won’t be much to find. Not here.”
    “I’ve already taken care of it.”
    “The owls again?”
    “Yes.”
    “Very handy, those birds. When they do as you ask.”
    “It’s because I ask nicely.”
    She snorted. “Of course.”
    Stretching her arms forward, she loosened her back and shoulder muscles. Then she went to look out the window, carefully standing to one side so she couldn’t be spotted from the street.
    “No patrols yet this morning?” She kept her face turned away from him as she studied the chunk of city she could see.
    “No patrols. From either side. After the fighting, things will likely be quiet for a few hours, at least. Especially since the humans won.”
    “Did they? I’m glad.”
    “They drove the minions back behind their own lines. The minions weren’t prepared for a full battle.”
    “The Sinnale are stronger now too. With our help.”
    Nothing moved on the cobbles below. Not even bits of rubbish blew down the empty alleys and courtyards. The morning air was still and quiet, casting a pink glow that softened the battered buildings and hid the neglect and damage. In that light, she could almost see the city as it had been before the war, a century ago when she’d last been here.
    “I’m sorry I can’t provide enough water for washing,” Einar murmured. “The owls couldn’t risk bringing in items too large. Or too many of them flying to the same place. That would give us away.”
    “It’s not a problem. I realize I probably stink.” She grinned over her shoulder. “But I can stand it for another day if you can.”
    The thought of the owls being tracked had her turning to face him fully. “Will they be able to get any supplies to us without attracting attention? Especially in the daytime when they shouldn’t really be about except for passing messages. Some lookout somewhere will spot them.”
    “They can fly low when needs be, avoiding too much attention. But only if there are no more than two or three. More would attract notice.”
    “Again, I can go without food or water. I wouldn’t want to see one of them hurt.”
    He tilted his head to one side. “I wouldn’t risk them unnecessarily.”
    “I know. I meant… Maybe my comfort isn’t necessary enough for their risk.”
    “Your comfort isn’t my concern. Your strength and ability to escape danger is.”
    How could she argue with that? She looked out the window again, not sure what else to say. Searching for a topic, she recalled one of the questions she’d never broached yesterday. “I forgot until now, but…the Sorcerer who was part of the caravan attack? You said he was never real. What did you mean? I could smell the death stench surrounding him. Even the horses reacted to him.”
    “He was a… projection the king calls it. Difficult and draining magic when so much detail is incorporated. But useful. They send their essence, their spirit, away from their bodies to whatever location they choose, but they aren’t there in a form that can be attacked or killed. Their bodies remain safe, probably inside the citadel or their own strongholds. Somewhere within range of the projection location. Ulric noticed them using this technique during the most recent battles with the Sinnale. The Sorcerers can direct efforts and watch the movements of the humans without having to endanger themselves by being physically present during the fight.”
    “Can these projections cast spells?”
    “No. They’re limited to observation. That’s how I knew the Sorcerer at the caravan attack wasn’t real.”
    Ah. Now she understood. “He would have used magic to stop our escape if he’d been real.”
    She glanced back at Einar in time to see him nod.
    “You said the magic for projection was