die.”
Chapter 8
“Put me down,” I whispered from between clenched teeth.
Vegard had one arm around my legs. If there was going to be a fight, he’d need all the arms he could get, including mine. I was still disoriented, but if Carnades had sent his personal guard goons after me, I was going to take some slices out of them before they got their hands on me. I still had the blades strapped to my forearms, and I wanted a chance to use them.
“Rolf, that’s Vegard! Are you blind, man?”
Uncle Ryn?
The Fortune wasn’t the only pirate ship anchored in Mid’s harbor. Phaelan’s dad, Commodore Ryn Benares, was visiting with three of his best ships. Uncle Ryn’s definition of “best” was his ships and crews that were best qualified for the most ruthless work. He was here to motivate Mid’s mages to find a way to free me of my link to the Saghred. As soon as that blessed event happened, he and his boys would be on their way. If the Conclave didn’t want pirates in their harbor and town, they’d better get to work on my problem. Mychael had given permission for Uncle Ryn to have his ships drop anchor in Mid’s harbor with the strict understanding that he was there as my concerned uncle, not as Commodore Benares.
I felt the Guardian’s shoulders relax, but only slightly. “Commodore?”
“Aye, Vegard,” came my uncle’s amused rumble from somewhere in front of us. “You’ve wandered into my new home away from home.”
“Put me down!” I didn’t bother with quiet.
“Let’s take it slow, ma’am,” the Guardian cautioned. “You’re going to be a bit unsteady on your feet.”
“I can stand.” Truth was I had no idea what I could do. Upside down wasn’t the best position to make that assessment.
Vegard carefully set me on my feet. As soon as he did, somebody spun the room in a big circle and I promptly landed on the floor. I put my hand over my eyes and just lay there. I couldn’t even see the room, and it still felt like the damned thing was spinning.
“Ooooo, not feeling so good.”
“Sorry, ma’am,” I dimly heard Vegard say. “The paladin had me get you out of there quick.”
Everything flooded back, making me even sicker. The blue demons, Carnades, the giant yellow demon I’d squashed, my dream, my possible marriage—and all of them were the Saghred’s fault.
I’d used the Saghred, but mostly the Saghred had used me. No wonder I wanted to toss my cookies. I also felt raw and exhausted and I had the worst headache of my life. The stone floor of wherever we were felt wonderful beyond belief against my flushed face.
A pair of massive black boots appeared in my line of vision.
“Hi, Uncle Ryn.” My voice was muffled from half of my face being smushed against the oh-so-delightfully-cool floor that I never wanted to leave.
“Afternoon, Spitfire.”
Spitfire. Uncle Ryn’s pet name for me. Also the name of a particularly ill-tempered breed of small dragon. Uncle Ryn had always meant it as a compliment, so I’d taken it the same way. I didn’t feel much like my namesake right now, and I’d have chuckled at the irony except I was trying really hard not to move. If I moved, the contents of my stomach were going to do likewise. That’s what my stomach was telling me, and I knew it wasn’t bluffing.
“Sorry for the less-than-hospitable greeting, Vegard,” Uncle Ryn was saying. “But the only chances I’m taking right now are at a card table. Rolf doesn’t know you, and you had my niece over your shoulder like a sack of potatoes.”
Swearing and sounds of a scuffle came from behind us. The scuffle concluded with three sharp punches followed by a quick succession of oofs and pained grunts.
“Sorry, Captain Benares, sir.” The man sounded like he was talking through a bloody lip and possibly some loose teeth. “We didn’t recognize you in the dark, and we’ve been ordered to—”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. Stop everyone by any means.”
“Our apologies,
Chapter 8
“Put me down,” I whispered from between clenched teeth.
Vegard had one arm around my legs. If there was going to be a fight, he’d need all the arms he could get, including mine. I was still disoriented, but if Carnades had sent his personal guard goons after me, I was going to take some slices out of them before they got their hands on me. I still had the blades strapped to my forearms, and I wanted a chance to use them.
“Rolf, that’s Vegard! Are you blind, man?”
Uncle Ryn?
The Fortune wasn’t the only pirate ship anchored in Mid’s harbor. Phaelan’s dad, Commodore Ryn Benares, was visiting with three of his best ships. Uncle Ryn’s definition of “best” was his ships and crews that were best qualified for the most ruthless work. He was here to motivate Mid’s mages to find a way to free me of my link to the Saghred. As soon as that blessed event happened, he and his boys would be on their way. If the Conclave didn’t want pirates in their harbor and town, they’d better get to work on my problem. Mychael had given permission for Uncle Ryn to have his ships drop anchor in Mid’s harbor with the strict understanding that he was there as my concerned uncle, not as Commodore Benares.
I felt the Guardian’s shoulders relax, but only slightly. “Commodore?”
“Aye, Vegard,” came my uncle’s amused rumble from somewhere in front of us. “You’ve wandered into my new home away from home.”
“Put me down!” I didn’t bother with quiet.
“Let’s take it slow, ma’am,” the Guardian cautioned. “You’re going to be a bit unsteady on your feet.”
“I can stand.” Truth was I had no idea what I could do. Upside down wasn’t the best position to make that assessment.
Vegard carefully set me on my feet. As soon as he did, somebody spun the room in a big circle and I promptly landed on the floor. I put my hand over my eyes and just lay there. I couldn’t even see the room, and it still felt like the damned thing was spinning.
“Ooooo, not feeling so good.”
“Sorry, ma’am,” I dimly heard Vegard say. “The paladin had me get you out of there quick.”
Everything flooded back, making me even sicker. The blue demons, Carnades, the giant yellow demon I’d squashed, my dream, my possible marriage—and all of them were the Saghred’s fault.
I’d used the Saghred, but mostly the Saghred had used me. No wonder I wanted to toss my cookies. I also felt raw and exhausted and I had the worst headache of my life. The stone floor of wherever we were felt wonderful beyond belief against my flushed face.
A pair of massive black boots appeared in my line of vision.
“Hi, Uncle Ryn.” My voice was muffled from half of my face being smushed against the oh-so-delightfully-cool floor that I never wanted to leave.
“Afternoon, Spitfire.”
Spitfire. Uncle Ryn’s pet name for me. Also the name of a particularly ill-tempered breed of small dragon. Uncle Ryn had always meant it as a compliment, so I’d taken it the same way. I didn’t feel much like my namesake right now, and I’d have chuckled at the irony except I was trying really hard not to move. If I moved, the contents of my stomach were going to do likewise. That’s what my stomach was telling me, and I knew it wasn’t bluffing.
“Sorry for the less-than-hospitable greeting, Vegard,” Uncle Ryn was saying. “But the only chances I’m taking right now are at a card table. Rolf doesn’t know you, and you had my niece over your shoulder like a sack of potatoes.”
Swearing and sounds of a scuffle came from behind us. The scuffle concluded with three sharp punches followed by a quick succession of oofs and pained grunts.
“Sorry, Captain Benares, sir.” The man sounded like he was talking through a bloody lip and possibly some loose teeth. “We didn’t recognize you in the dark, and we’ve been ordered to—”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. Stop everyone by any means.”
“Our apologies,
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