The Glass Casket by Mccormick Templeman Read Free Book Online Page A

one wanted to hear it.”
    “Something beyond? What do you mean?”
    “I don’t know exactly—something not born of the Goddess; something not of this realm.”
    “Forest things, then?” Rowan asked, trying to keep an open mind. “Goblins and the like?”
    He shook his head. “I didn’t get that impression.”
    “Well, what impression did you get?”
    He thought for a moment, and staring out at the icyexpanse, he chose his words carefully. “Evil,” he said. “All around me up there, I felt the presence of evil.”
    Rowan’s features were knotted with concern. “Have you spoken with an elder about it?”
    He sighed. “No one would listen. It’s as if everyone wants to blame it on a wolf because although we fear wolves, we understand their ways. But whatever happened up there is beyond comprehension. It was something wicked, Ro, and I think the elders know it. Paer Jorgen was with us, and I think that what we saw up there, it scared him—scared him so much that they’re lying to us about the danger.”
    Rowan shivered at Tom’s words. She didn’t know what to make of his theories, but it was clear that his experience up on Beggar’s Drift had frightened him more than she’d ever seen him frightened. “But what do you think, Tom? What do you think killed them?”
    He shook his head. “I don’t know. But there’s a reason no one goes up to Beggar’s Drift. Whatever’s up there, it’s not the same as the forest things down here. It’s like the land—icy and foul.”
    “You’re talking as if you saw something.”
    “No,” he said, shaking his head, his eyes distant. “No, it wasn’t what I saw; it was what I felt. It’s bad land up there.” He ran his hands through his hair and shut his eyes as if to close them against the memory. “Tell me something, Ro. Tell me something good.”
    “What do you mean?” she asked, wanting to help him but not knowing how.
    “I don’t want to think about that place anymore.” He sighed. “Tell me something silly and sweet and mundane.”
    She bit her lip, searching, and then raised her eyebrows. “Well, I think our Emily’s going to marry Bill Holdren,” she said.
    “That’s good news. Bill’s a nice fellow.”
    “Yes, he’s nice. That’s not the point. I don’t want him to take my Emily away.”
    “It’s time enough,” Tom said, starting to feel more like himself. “She’s getting on twenty.”
    “But what will I ever do without her?” Rowan whined.
    “More housework, I suppose.” He laughed. “Those little scholar hands of yours might actually get a callus or two.”
    “I do housework,” she snapped, feigning outrage.
    “Chatting to Emily while she does housework is not in itself housework.”
    She stuck her tongue out at him, and he laughed. “Perhaps I’ll leave.”
    “And go where?” he asked, surprised.
    “The palace city,” she said, sitting up. “I’d love to see it, to meet all the different sorts of people who live there.”
    “Aw, Ro,” he said, gazing at her with pride. “They’d be lucky to have you. Anyone would.”
    “So let’s do it, then. Let’s run away.”
    “You must be joking.” He snorted at the idea. “I’m never leaving Nag’s End.”
    “You don’t even dream about it, about seeing far-off lands?” Rowan asked, trying to keep the disappointment from her voice.
    “Nag’s End is good enough for my father, and it’s good enough for me.” Pushing himself up to sit beside her, he stared at the sky a moment, as if pondering something wondrous. “Rowan,” he said, “do you think it possible to love someone upon first laying eyes on them?”
    Rowan sighed and pulled her knees to her chest. The idea of love made her nervous, and she and Tom never discussed it. “Well, the poets certainly thought it so,” she said, drawing on her scholarship, as she always did when she felt unsure of herself. “If they’re to be believed, a woman’s eyes can know a future lover upon seeing him, and