Sharon Shinn - Reader And Raelynx

He gave her a casual smile. “I thought I would accompany you to Carrebos instead. I find it a most intriguing city.”

“You’ve been there?” Senneth asked.

“Many times.” He dropped his gaze. “She lives there. Sosinetta. The woman you have heard me speak of.”

“Your ladylove!” Kirra crooned. “Oh, Darryn, will you introduce us?”

“I’m afraid she might be overwhelmed. You’re very grand.”

Senneth glanced down at her travel-stained trousers and her long-sleeved shirt, rather the worse for wear. “I don’t think that’s an adjective that applies to me. And Kirra can look like an urchin, you know.”

“Even better. I’ll shift into a friendly little dog,” Kirra offered. “I’ll just frisk around and lick her hand and she won’t be at all intimidated.”

Darryn laughed. “I’ll think about it.”

“There’s no thinking about it ,” Kirra said. “Now that we know she lives in Carrebos, we won’t rest until we’ve seen her! Why didn’t you tell us before?”

He groaned and dropped his head in his hands. “For precisely that reason. I’m a fool.”

Senneth grinned at Kirra. “Now I’m even more excited about arriving tomorrow.”

THEweather was nasty as they pulled into the city around noon. Icy droplets were pelting in straight from the roiling sea, so they were not particularly focused on watching for young ladies who might run up to offer Darryn ecstatic greetings. They headed for the nearest inn, gratefully turned over their horses, and gathered in the taproom once they had changed to dry clothes. Kirra, Senneth, and Tayse slid into a booth; Donnal settled under the table at Kirra’s feet.

“Ser Darryn has disappeared,” Tayse observed.

“We’ll find him,” Kirra said. “Don’t worry about that.”

“What we need to find now is a mystic,” Senneth said.

In a town like Carrebos, that task proved simple to accomplish. Their server was a boy of about sixteen, gangly and thin, with unkempt black hair falling into his eyes. He had taken their orders so negligently that Senneth did not repose much faith in receiving the meal she’d requested, but when he returned she saw he had found a novel way of carrying several dinner platters at once. They were levitated in front of him, one stacked above the other, supported by nothing but air and willpower. Three glasses of beer hovered near his shoulder.

Senneth couldn’t look at Kirra, who was clearly on the verge of erupting into laughter. “Thank you,” she said gravely as the boy settled everything on the table without a single spill. “I have to suppose you possess a little magical skill.”

He nodded carelessly. “Makes the job easier, that’s for certain.”

“I know this is a city where many mystics live,” Senneth said. “How do I go about meeting all of them?”

Now his face turned closed and suspicious. So he’d been scarred by fear or malice a time or two, Senneth guessed. “Why would you want to do that?”

She held her hand out, palm up, and allowed fire to dance between her fingers, all the while keeping her eyes on his face. “No need to fear me,” she said quietly. “I am a mystic myself. I am on a mission for the king.”

The boy’s eyes darted from Senneth’s burning hand to the faces of her companions. “You’re all mystics?” he said.

“Not him. He’s a soldier,” Senneth said, because naming Tayse a Rider might create more distrust in this particular community. “The rest of us.” Donnal poked his black nose out from under the table and offered a short bark.

The serving boy seemed reassured. “I’ll ask Ward. He owns the place.” He gave her a quick grin. “He’s a reader, so if you’re lying, he’ll throw you out.”

The boy departed and Kirra said, “He’ll try to throw us out. No one’s ever managed that yet.”

“I don’t think he’ll even try, since we are who we say. Sweet gods, I’m hungry.”

They all dug in, happy to have a meal that hadn’t been prepared on the road. Senneth hadn’t quite cleaned her plate when they were approached by a rather large man-big bellied, round faced, and nearly bald. He wore a filthy apron over his clothes and carried a rather large butcher knife in one hand, so Senneth guessed he was both owner and chief cook-and defender of the premises.

He pulled out a chair, reversed it, laid his knife on the table, and introduced himself. “I’m Ward. What is a King’s Rider and a group of mystics doing at my inn?”

So much for anonymity. Kirra was giggling again, but Senneth actually liked having a reader in the mix. Everyone was forced to be honest. “Trying to raise an army,” she said. “And wondering if we might find a few sorcerous recruits in Carrebos.”

Ward scratched the back of his head. “Way I hear it, king’s already got an army.”

“Ordinary men,” Senneth said. Her gaze flicked to Tayse, who was smiling slightly. Very well, the Riders were hardly ordinary. “We hope to augment them with extraordinary ones. Shape-shifters. Readers. Healers. Those who can call fire. I fear we may have need of all their magical skills if we truly are drawn into war.”

“King hasn’t done much to protect mystics from people who hate them,” Ward said.

“Not true,” Tayse interposed. “He has made Ghosenhall a haven for them and fined the marlords who allow mystics to be persecuted on their lands. There is little the king can do to guard mystics who live in remote hamlets far from the royal city.”

Ward shrugged. “Maybe. But not everyone feels kindly toward the king.”

“Do you feel kindly toward Coralinda Gisseltess?” Kirra asked. “Because if war comes and the king is defeated, she will be free to spread her gospel of hatred across the realm. No mystic will be safe then, not even in enclaves like Carrebos.”

“We can defend ourselves,” Ward said. “Done it for months now. There was only one time the Pale Mother’s soldiers came here, and we defeated them all.”

“Which is exactly why I would wish some of you to join the king,” Senneth said. “To help us defeat enemies who want to strip magic from the land.”

Ward scratched the back of his head again. “I’ll mention it to a few people,” he said. He hauled himself up and pushed his way back toward the kitchen.

“Not sure we can count on him for unconditional support,” Kirra observed.

“We’ll make the rounds tomorrow morning. Drop by the other inns and restaurants,” Senneth said. “Word will get out. We’ll see if anyone’s interested.”

THEweather was better the following day, for which Senneth was grateful. She didn’t mind heat, didn’t mind cold, but she hated ice and snow. All was well with the world as long as there was sunshine.

Even in winter, Carrebos was a pretty little town, a crowded collection of mismatched but well-tended buildings mostly grouped along a few major streets. It was nestled right up against the sea, so the smells of salt and fish were very strong, and the view of the sparkling water added to the pleasures of the sunny day.

Senneth had decided that a smaller group might have better success, so she and Kirra began to canvass the other eating establishments in Carrebos. Donnal conducted investigations in his own fashion, nosing around kitchens and street corners; Tayse said he wanted to patrol the town and get a sense of its size, makeup, and fortifications. He disliked being in unfamiliar territory and always welcomed a chance to study new terrain.

Senneth and Kirra were at their third stop when, most unexpectedly, they encountered someone they knew. They were sitting in a back booth at an inviting tavern where they were the only customers of the morning. Having already consumed two breakfasts, they’d decided they should just order tea and hope the proprietor didn’t grumble. Their waitress was a young woman with dark hair piled in a bun and an air of smooth competence.