The Silver Pear by Michelle Diener Read Free Book Online Page A

back of his throat. “I don’t think William knows quite what he wants to do. He seemed ill at ease over the whole thing. Nearly struck the sorcerer for hurting you in the courtyard. Argued with him over stripping your powers. If the sorcerer hadn’t planned to kill you, perhaps William’s clearly divided loyalties changed his mind.”
    She thought about that, leaning against the bars. Soren was so close to her she could feel the heat of his skin. “Thank you.” He turned to look at her as she spoke, his face hard to read in the gloom of the cell. “For staying. You could already be halfway home by now.”
    “Not really.” He gave her a crooked smile. “You could have left me in the courtyard. Ducked into the passage and left me to my little breakdown. You could be halfway home by now.”
    She gave a bitter laugh. “Not really.”
    He waited a beat. “If you feel better, are you able to unlock the door like you did before?”
    She lifted her hand to the silver pear, and felt a jolt of pure fear, searing her heart like the touch of a blacksmith’s brand.
    “What is it?” He went from half-slouched against the bars to absolute focus in a moment.
    “My . . . talisman. Most sorcerers use a staff. I used a magical item my father gave me. A silver pear. It hangs like a pendant around my neck.” She thought back to what had happened in the courtyard. The pain, her hand coming up . . . “The passageway! I sent it to the passageway so that William’s sorcerer couldn’t get it.”
    He frowned. “Did the others close the far door of the passage behind them, or was it still open?”
    Miri felt her world drop away, as if the floor had disappeared from beneath her feet, and she fell.
    There was nothing. Nothing but the roaring in her ears until warm hands grasped her shoulders, pulled her upright. “Mirabelle.”
    He said her name forcefully, and she gasped. Fought the darkness that swam at the edges of her vision and took a deep breath.
    “It was all I could think of,” she said, half-gulping the words. “I thought he had me, and I didn’t have much strength left. It had to be somewhere close . . .”
    “It’s all right. Even if the door isn’t closed, they have no reason to go looking for it. It’s nowhere near the front gate.”
    She gave an uncertain nod. “But anyone could take it. Sell it. Give it to someone like Eric or Nuen. I was entrusted with its safekeeping.”
    He pushed back hair that had fallen over her face when she’d collapsed, his fingers gentle as they stroked behind her ears. “It’s all right. I know the feeling of losing something very powerful and important. I did it myself not that long ago.”
    “Did you get it back?” She couldn’t help her hopeful tone.
    He looked at her, as if considering what to say, but in the end, he shook his head.
    “What was it?”
    He sighed, leaned back against the bars. “The golden apple.”
----
    S he squeaked . Actually squeaked.
    He was glad he was facing away from her so he could hide his smile.
    As a sorcerer, Mirabelle was not the menacing, intimidating scourge of Middleland Soren delighted in bringing down.
    “Eric the Bold’s golden apple?”
    He nodded. “Well, technically, it’s my brother Rane’s golden apple. He won it in a tournament. But during a fight with Nuen, I dropped it, and Nuen has it, now.”
    He heard her sharp intake of breath. He ran stiff fingers through his hair in agitation.
    “The golden apple and the silver pear are both said to have been given to sorcerers long ago for great feats of bravery by a goddess.” Her voice was soft. “Hirst Red Tongue had the golden apple until Eric killed him for it. Handed down from his great-grandfather.”
    “And the silver pear?” Soren was sitting a little straighter now. He’d never heard of either the golden apple or the silver pear until a few days ago.
    “The silver pear . . .”
    He was sitting so close to her, he felt her shrug.
    “My father wouldn’t tell me its