"Barb & J. C. Hendee - Noble Dead 03 - Sister of the Dead" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hendee JC & Barb)

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It had been an evening at the guild barracks, filled with quiet company and the curiosity of a scroll from
The Forgotten, the lost history, when Wynn had last offered him such a cup. Sage and scholar, she did
not waste her precious existence in the drudgery of the masses, the cattle of the humanity. She was
unique, a living treasure.

Wynn had come to Magiere and Leesil.

Had she joined them? It would be a delicate matter to play along until he could decide to take revenge
upon Magiere or continue to serve Welstiel's vague agenda. What if Wynn were there, caught amidst all
of it and unable to fend for herself?

His hand shook as he set down the mug, and he felt Welstiel's attention upon him.

"What is it?" Welstiel asked.

"Nothing. "

The number of mugs was not lost on his companion, and Welstiel stepped closer to pick up the same
one Chane had examined. Welstiel turned it slowly, studying the remains in its bottom.

"I doubt they shared tea with the dog. Who was the third person?"

Chane held up his open hands as if he had nothing to offer.

Welstiel returned the mug to its companions upon the table. "Shall we go?"

Chane's attention hung one moment longer upon the mug, with the scent of mint still filling his head.

IThe city of Bela had faded from sight, and Chap darted through the roadside brush in the dark chill air.
Nightfall had passed, but Magiere still pressed them onward, as if half a day in the city had delayed their
journey too long, and they needed to make up ground. Chap heard the wagon rolling along the road
behind him.

His companions had purchased heavy winter cloaks, a few extra shirts, and ample supplies, though
perhaps not enough of the smoked mutton that Chap had found in an open market. They were well
stocked and back on the open road once again. It should have been a joyful change. He could not stop
this journey, nor would he wish to if it would lead them to the answers they sought. But seeking
Magiere's past was another matter.

Chap ran, feeling his body's strength and speed as wild grass pulled at his silver fur. He slowed to circle
into a sparse grove, paws treading across the mulch floor of the small clearing therein.

A breeze lashed his coat, striking downward from the sky instead of through the trees. The answering
hushed chatter of branches did not follow immediately. He heard the forest's whisper all around him.