and—”
“Security squad?” Miranda pushed past her with a grin. “Gin!”
He must have been waiting for this, because the ghosthound appeared with a speed that surprised even Miranda. Gin slid to a halt right in front of them, grinning toothily, while the misty patterns flew over his coat in a way that meant he was feeling extraordinarily pleased with himself. Miranda shook her head and turned to the librarian. Marion was almost sitting on the ground in her scramble to get away from the monster that had not been there a second before. It was all Miranda could do not to reach down and shut the girl’s gaping jaw for her.
“I don’t think a security squad will be needed,” Miranda said, vaulting onto Gin’s back. “Coming?”
The girl had barely nodded before Gin swept her up with his paw and tossed her on his back. The stable dogs howled as the ghosthound loped across the castle grounds, fast as an icy gale. He took the castle gate intwo leaps and hit the city street running, sending the well-dressed townsfolk screaming in all directions.
“Did you find anything?” Miranda asked.
“Of course not.” Gin sighed. “So, do we have a destination, or are we just putting on a show?”
“West side of the city, and slow it down a little.” She glanced over her shoulder at Marion, who was clinging to the ghosthound’s short coat with everything she had. “We have a delicate flower with us.”
The ghosthound slowed just a fraction as he took a narrow alley westward, downhill toward the river.
CHAPTER
6
I f looked at from the sky, Allaze, the capital and only walled city of Mellinor, was a thing of beauty. It lay like a sun-bleached sand dollar on the grassy banks of the river Aze, circular and white with the spires of the castle as the star at its center. Low, undulating hills, spotted with split wood fences and fat cattle, rose around it, so that the city was a bump at the lowest point of a soft, green bowl.
Along the city’s northern wall, the bushy edge of the king’s deer park met the city in a mash of green oaks and tall pines. Only a thin strip of grass and the taller than usual northern parapets kept the trees out of the city proper. Within the walls, a charming, if confusing, knot of streets twisted outward and downward from the castle hill. Following the king’s example, the citizens had also arranged themselves vertically, starting at the top with impressive, stone mansions pressed right against the castle’s outer perimeter and moving down to the sprawling ring of flat-roofed timber houses leaning againstAllaze’s edge, where the white stone outer wall ran in a nearly perfect circle around the city. Nearly perfect, but for one slight flaw.
In a fit of architectural rebellion, a small section of the city’s western edge deviated to form an unsightly bulge. It was as if the stones in that part of the wall had tried to make a break for the river, only to fail halfway and rejoin the circle a quarter mile later in sullen resignation. If this building irregularity had a purpose, it was long forgotten, and the western bulge was now a pile of ramshackle buildings on top of what had been a swamp, but was now home to some of the least reputable businesses in Mellinor.
Gin trotted to a stop in front of one such establishment, a ramshackle building with the words merrymont tavern painted in fading, uneven block letters across the shuttered upper story.
“This looks like the place,” Miranda said, sliding off Gin’s back. Marion followed timidly, wincing as her nice court slippers hit the muddy road with a wet slap. The wooden buildings here tilted in every direction, leaning on each other like drunks until it was difficult to tell where one ended and the next began. The smell of stagnant water and unwashed bodies hung in a haze over the narrow streets, but there was no one to be seen. Every window was dark and empty, projecting gloom and decay until even the noon sunlight seemed dimmer.
“Security squad?” Miranda pushed past her with a grin. “Gin!”
He must have been waiting for this, because the ghosthound appeared with a speed that surprised even Miranda. Gin slid to a halt right in front of them, grinning toothily, while the misty patterns flew over his coat in a way that meant he was feeling extraordinarily pleased with himself. Miranda shook her head and turned to the librarian. Marion was almost sitting on the ground in her scramble to get away from the monster that had not been there a second before. It was all Miranda could do not to reach down and shut the girl’s gaping jaw for her.
“I don’t think a security squad will be needed,” Miranda said, vaulting onto Gin’s back. “Coming?”
The girl had barely nodded before Gin swept her up with his paw and tossed her on his back. The stable dogs howled as the ghosthound loped across the castle grounds, fast as an icy gale. He took the castle gate intwo leaps and hit the city street running, sending the well-dressed townsfolk screaming in all directions.
“Did you find anything?” Miranda asked.
“Of course not.” Gin sighed. “So, do we have a destination, or are we just putting on a show?”
“West side of the city, and slow it down a little.” She glanced over her shoulder at Marion, who was clinging to the ghosthound’s short coat with everything she had. “We have a delicate flower with us.”
The ghosthound slowed just a fraction as he took a narrow alley westward, downhill toward the river.
CHAPTER
6
I f looked at from the sky, Allaze, the capital and only walled city of Mellinor, was a thing of beauty. It lay like a sun-bleached sand dollar on the grassy banks of the river Aze, circular and white with the spires of the castle as the star at its center. Low, undulating hills, spotted with split wood fences and fat cattle, rose around it, so that the city was a bump at the lowest point of a soft, green bowl.
Along the city’s northern wall, the bushy edge of the king’s deer park met the city in a mash of green oaks and tall pines. Only a thin strip of grass and the taller than usual northern parapets kept the trees out of the city proper. Within the walls, a charming, if confusing, knot of streets twisted outward and downward from the castle hill. Following the king’s example, the citizens had also arranged themselves vertically, starting at the top with impressive, stone mansions pressed right against the castle’s outer perimeter and moving down to the sprawling ring of flat-roofed timber houses leaning againstAllaze’s edge, where the white stone outer wall ran in a nearly perfect circle around the city. Nearly perfect, but for one slight flaw.
In a fit of architectural rebellion, a small section of the city’s western edge deviated to form an unsightly bulge. It was as if the stones in that part of the wall had tried to make a break for the river, only to fail halfway and rejoin the circle a quarter mile later in sullen resignation. If this building irregularity had a purpose, it was long forgotten, and the western bulge was now a pile of ramshackle buildings on top of what had been a swamp, but was now home to some of the least reputable businesses in Mellinor.
Gin trotted to a stop in front of one such establishment, a ramshackle building with the words merrymont tavern painted in fading, uneven block letters across the shuttered upper story.
“This looks like the place,” Miranda said, sliding off Gin’s back. Marion followed timidly, wincing as her nice court slippers hit the muddy road with a wet slap. The wooden buildings here tilted in every direction, leaning on each other like drunks until it was difficult to tell where one ended and the next began. The smell of stagnant water and unwashed bodies hung in a haze over the narrow streets, but there was no one to be seen. Every window was dark and empty, projecting gloom and decay until even the noon sunlight seemed dimmer.
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