The Silver Rose by Susan Carroll Read Free Book Online

furious hiss.
    “Merciful heavens,” Marie Claire cried. “Whatever is wrong with the beast?”
    Miri didn’t reply, her attention riveted on Necromancer. She experienced a strange empathy with all creatures of the earth, but never had her ability to communicate been as marked as it was with this one small cat. Necromancer had alerted her to approaching danger on many occasions, saving her life.
    She crouched down, her gaze locking with the cat’s great golden eyes, her thoughts melding with his. The warning that he sent caused Miri’s heart to still.
    “You are in great peril, daughter of the earth. The one whom you have long dreaded has returned to your isle. The witch-hunter, Aristide.”
    Miri tried to draw in a lungful of air and found she couldn’t. Her mind reeled with disbelief.
    “You—you are certain of this, Necromancer?”
Miri thought desperately.
“You have seen him?”
    The cat’s golden eyes blinked in confirmation. Miri sank back on her haunches, feeling the blood drain from her face. So much for Marie Claire’s hope of praying the man away. Miri reflected how right she had been all these years to avoid talking about Simon. It was as though merely by uttering his name aloud this afternoon, she had conjured up the devil.
    But why? Why had Simon come back to Faire Isle? Surely he had done enough damage to the women of this island. What more could he possibly want?
    “You,”
was Necromancer’s alarming reply to her thought.
“This time the witch-hunter has come looking for you.”
    Miri closed her eyes, realizing what must have drawn Simon down on her, made him reconsider sparing her from charges of witchcraft. The gossip that was spreading about her, the reputation she had gleaned as this Lady of the Wood. And all because she had broken her promise to Ariane to live quietly. Well, she would have time enough to castigate herself for that later. At least she hoped that she would.
    She jumped when she felt Marie Claire’s hand rest on her shoulder. The woman’s uneasy gaze darted between Miri and her cat.
    “Miri? What is going on? What is wrong?”
    Miri parted her lips to speak, only to clamp her mouth closed, reconsidering what she had been about to say. If Simon was coming for Miri, there was no reason to alarm Marie Claire or get her involved. The old woman would only seek to protect Miri, end up placing herself in harm’s way.
    Struggling to her feet, Miri corraled Necromancer and scooped him into her arms. “N-nothing is wrong. Necromancer is only worried because—because of the weather. Storms always upset him. I need to get him home, Marie.”
    “But surely it would be better if you both remained here, waited for the storm to blow over.”
    “I don’t think this one is going to do that,” Miri said grimly, but she managed to paste on a brittle smile. “I—I have other animals back at the cottage. My pigeons, the rabbits. S-so much to do. I really
must
be going. I will—will visit you again in a few days.”
    She hoped her stammered explanation would be enough to fool Marie Claire. The former abbess had never been quite as good at reading eyes as Ariane. Not giving Marie Claire a chance to question her further, Miri brushed a kiss against the older woman’s cheek and ducked out the cottage door into a world where the sky seemed to have grown that much darker, the wind even sharper.
    Clutching Necromancer to her, she raced toward the shed behind the cottage where she had stabled Willow. The wind tangled stray wisps about her eyes and she paused just inside the shelter of the doorway to catch her breath. A part of her had always known she was fated to cross swords with Simon Aristide again one day. She had believed that when the time came she would be able to face him, tough and unflinching.
    But with the prospect looming before her, her heart raced. She felt as though the scarred tissue of an old wound had split open, leaving her raw and vulnerable. Necromancer twisted in her