Fanuilh by Daniel Hood (ebook reader with highlight function TXT) 📗

The dragon's head bobbed gracefully and Liam left the workroom, suppressing a yawn.

He did not go right to the library, but wandered curiously through the house he had accepted as his own. The light was even throughout the house, but the empty, echoing sound was gone. The parlor, the kitchen, the trophy room all felt comfortable, almost welcoming. He did not disturb anything, just entered each room briefly and surveyed the furnishings, smiling the lightly bitter smile that even after ten years of use had not creased his face.

It's not Rhenford Keep, but it will do, I suppose.

Still smiling, as much at himself as at his house, he went into the library to sleep.

Fanuilh woke him precisely at the hour he requested, though there was no accompanying illusion of stone cities from his travels. The call in his mind felt normal, proper in a strange way.

I used to wake Master Tanaquil this way, came the dragon's thought as Liam sat on the edge of the divan, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He did not comment, but went to the kitchen and imagined another platter of meat for it. He brought the food to the workroom and laid it on the table.

"Eat your fill," he said cheerily. "I want you well and whole soon, so you can begin holding up your end of the bargain."

You think you can fulfill your end soon.

Liam thought for a moment, his eyes on the intricate model by the window, and on the jagged Teeth that dominated it.

"Yes, I do. Today will answer a number of questions." They were silent for a while, Liam lost in thought, his eyes unfocused on the model. Fanuilh did not eat, but stared at him. He grew aware of the dragon's gaze after a moment, and started with a guilty smile.

"What was I thinking?" he challenged.

Nothing. Your thoughts were diffused.

"What is that like? Looking at diffused thoughts, I mean? How does it appear to you?"

The dragon's stare impaled his, holding it till he grew uneasy, wondering. Finally, the block formed in his mind, and he realized the creature had been searching for a way to express the idea.

Like a flock of birds that explode suddenly from a city square, so scattered and intermingled that you cannot follow any single one. It is confusion.

With even more surprise, he saw that the idea was his, drawn from a memory he had of the birdsellers and their flocks in Torquay.

"I was daydreaming, not confused."

No, but you allowed your thoughts to fly apart. You do that often, letting many lines go their ways, not following any particular one. Master Tanaquil never did that. His thoughts were orderly, like the steps in a ritual. It was easy to follow them.

"Well, then, it's a good thing you won't have to look into my head much longer. We'll finish this business in the next few days, and you can teach me. Now, if there's nothing else, I'll be on my way." The dragon shook its head in wide, sweeping arcs. "Fine. I suggest you study up on what you have to teach me while I'm gone."

The dragon stopped moving its head, and tucked it down between its forelegs, like a dog preparing for rest.

"Good boy," Liam muttered, and went to get his horse.

The morning was colder than the night, and his breath plumed out in clouds that the sharp breeze tore to tatters. Diamond was not cold, but restive, unhappy with the cramped confines of the shed. He tossed his mane and snorted when Liam led him out onto the beach, kicking up spurts of sand that the wind caught and whirled, stinging, into Liam's eyes.

He calmed the horse with a soft word, and once they were up the cliff path, gave him rein. Thundering over the frozen ruts of the road, they passed fields dusted with frost, and Liam had to duck his face down into his cloak to escape the bite of the wind.

Cheeks tingling and scarlet with cold, he gave the snorting horse over to the boy at the stables, and set off briskly for the Aedile's house. The sun was bright and the sky a pale blue that reminded him of summer, but there was no warmth in the light, and a deep chill lingered in the shadows cast by the bleached gray stone and wood of the city.

Coeccias's servant let him into the house and directed him to the small kitchen at the rear. The Aedile was there, using a ladle to stir a large pot hung on a swivel hook over the fire.

"Rhenford, y'are here just in time. I'll have you test this brew, and escape it myself if it's foul." He filled the ladle with steaming liquid from the pot and shoved it in Liam's face. "Go to, go to! Drink!" he commanded.

Inclining his head, Liam sniffed suspiciously and then hazarded a small sip. It was mulled cider, and though it scalded his tongue, it slid down his throat smoothly, to form a warm, spiced ball in his stomach. He nodded appreciatively and took another sip.

"It's not just cider," he accused, to the Aedile's amusement.

"And should it be?" Coeccias pulled two pewter mugs from the mantel above the fire and filled them from the pot, which he then swung further away from the fire. He gestured Liam to a seat at the cluttered wooden table that filled most of the kitchen, and placed one of the steaming mugs in front of him.

"It's a hint of the very water of life, to add the inspirational tone. I've to make a greater batch for Uris-tide, and this is but a test." He took a sip of his own mug and smacked his lips with closed eyes. "It'll do."

A scent of cinnamon rose from the cider, mingled with the hint of liquor, and Liam sipped again approvingly. Coeccias called his servant, and when the man appeared, gave orders for his breakfast.

"You'll eat?" he asked Liam, and without