Wind Over Bone: The Estralony Cycle #2 (Young Adult Fantasy Romance) by E. D. Ebeling Read Free Book Online

did you do? He was going on about the floor crumbling––”
    “ I wasn’t the one who made it crumble.”
    “ You stopped it,” he said shortly, accusingly. “No one ever stops it. All we can do is wait. What did you do? Leap into his head?”
    “ Yes.” She poked at the banked coals in the fountain, and blew them into life. “Don’t ask after the details.”
    “ Gods.” His eyes were big. “I was joking. In his head? Could you do it again?”
    She stood up, wiping soot off her arms. “Imagine the most horrifying nightmare you’ve ever had had come true.”
    He was silent for a moment. Then he said, “Is that why you were crying?”
    She filled the kettle with water from a pitcher and hung it on its hook. “I don’t want anything more to do with your brother’s head.”
    “But if it happens again––” Rischa blurted.  He said more carefully, “You must understand. He’s got worse. There’s no cure anyone can find, and then all the sudden there was you––”
    “ Leave me alone.”
    “ I won’t.” He was deadly serious. “I could make things difficult for you. I will become Ravyir if my brother isn’t fit for it.”
    She almost laughed, but her stomach turned. She wasn’t sure it was a cramp. “You would use extortion?” she said.
    He opened his mouth and looked at his boots. “No,” he said scornfully. It changed her mind, for some reason.
     
    ***
     
    Rischa arranged for the first meeting between them to be held at sunset.
    Sarid kept herself busy that afternoon, picking cobwebs and burs from Gryka’s fur, brewing fennel tea for her stomach, ginger tea for her head, and valerian tea for her nerves; and the sun went down much too early for her taste.
    After looking in a window at her raggedy dress, she dug through a pile of clothes in the corner. She put on her least-stained jacket and met Rischa outside her fireplace; and they walked the long corridors toward his family’s rooms, which were in a wide tower on the south side of the hall.
    “ I’ve told him who you are,” Rischa said. Sarid wondered if she should have taken more valerian.  “I’ve also told him to pack in his sarcasm. Perhaps he’ll behave. I don’t know.” They had come to a round common room upholstered in grey velvet, and without bothering to knock Rischa pushed open a door.
    A cloud of red dust burst out, and Sarid sneezed.
    “Great gods, Yoffin,” Rischa said. “Must you shower in paprika?”
    A little man, the one with whom Sarid had danced at the first ball, opened the door further. “We was having eggs, Master Rischa.” Yoffin pulled Rischa into the room and ushered Sarid after.
    “Let him be,” said Rischa’s brother. “He smells better that way.” Sarid could scarcely see him through the red.
    “ Charming.” Rischa opened a window and tried to wave some of the stuff outside. Yoffin took two eggs off a platter, put them both in his mouth, and tucked them in his cheeks. He swallowed them whole, one after the other.
    “ Gurd,” he said, “I’m flattered you’ve dropped by but I can’t have no trouble––I’m already in trouble.”
    “ Take this back before it starts stinking,” said Rischa’s brother, and he thrust the platter, one egg rolling round it, towards his manservant.
    “ Off I go, off I go,” chanted the man, backing out the door, “before my ears become a liability.”
    The door slammed shut. “The kitchen girl,” said Rischa’s brother. The air had cleared and Sarid could see him better. He was more gaunt than his brother, his hair darker, his eyes a lighter gold. His shadow was as black as his brother’s.
    “You’ve promised not to be difficult,” said Rischa. “Bones,” he said, “this is Savvel. Savvel, this is––” He scratched his ear. “I can’t remember your proper name.”
    “ Sarid Hyeda.” Savvel dropped himself into a chair and stretched his legs under a little table, making it wobble. “I’ve been asking round. Don’t look so