Riqua.”
Gabriel smiled, making his long eyeteeth plain. “Of course. Riqua and I have been among the hunted too many times ourselves to stand by when we could be of help. We’re fortunate to have a brave network of mortals and a few
vayash moru
who refuse to leave the others behind. I know too well what it’s like, hiding in cellars and caves, waiting to be betrayed and burned. So we help others ‘disappear’ and take them to safety.”
“That’s why they call it the Ghost Carriage.” Jonmarc grimaced. “I just hope Kolin doesn’t push his luck too far. Nargi border patrols are nothing to fool around with. I’ve gotten in and out of Nargi myself a few times, if you recall.”
“Usually in about the same shape as the ones you brought in tonight, as I remember.”
“True enough.”
“Another long night.”
Carina looked up at Carroway and nodded. “Seem to be a lot of them lately.” She laid a hand on her swollen belly and Carroway gave her a look of concern. “I’m all right. Honestly. Just tired.”
“Do I need to tell you what I think?”
Carina smiled and patted Carroway’s arm. “I can guess. But there’s work to do.”
“You know, when Tris sent me to Dark Haven, I don’t think he expected you to put me to work!”
“Think of it as part of your healing. It gets you out of bed and moving around, plus it keeps you from feeling sorry for yourself.”
Carroway grinned as he got to his feet. He stretched out his hand to her and winced as she pulled herself up. After six months, he wasn’t good as new, but his left hand had regained nearly enough strength and mobility for him to begin trying to play the lute again. A knife had impaled his hand as he struggled with the assassin who had tried to kill Kiara. That injury left him worse than crippled. For Margolan’s Master Bard, it was a devastating blow. He sighed.
“Maybe I should just go back and focus on arranging music and events,” Carroway said. “Macaria’s been trying to tell me that it’s not the end of the world if I can’t play.”
Carina shook her head. “You’ve made progress. You’re getting flexibility back in your fingers. And the hand pains you less than it did before. Don’t give up. Laisren and Jonmarc both think that you’ll be fine with a little more time. And both of them have been banged up badly enough to know.”
“You’re just saying that because I’m good, free help,” Carroway joked.
Carina gave him a tired smile. “Well, there is that, too. I don’t know what I’d have done these last few months without you and Macaria—and Cam before he went home to Brunnfen.”
“Think he’ll have any problem crossing Margolan? I heard they closed the border, with the plague and all.” Carroway gave a tired grin. “Which also means you can’t get rid of Macaria and me now, even if you wanted to.”
Carina shook her head. “As I heard it, you can leave Principality to go to Margolan, but you can’t enter Principality from Margolan. And no, I don’t think Cam will have problems getting to Isencroft. As for Brunnfen, well, we haven’t been home in twelve years. Now that Father and Alvior are dead, it’s nice to be welcomed back, but it takes more than a letter to make it home again.”
“You’re worried.”
She shrugged. “Of course. I’d have gone with him if I could.” Her hand fell to her belly, and she looked out across the windowless room at the badly wounded
vyrkin
and
vayash moru
Jonmarc and Laisren had brought in from tonight’s attack.
Carroway laid a hand on her shoulder and she looked up at him. “Cam will be fine. You’ll see. And as for this mess,” he said with a look at the crowds of injured refugees that huddled in the room, “we’ll figure something out.” He grinned. “After all, they’ve heard the stories about how you and Royster and Taru fixed the Flow of magic when no one had been able to in over fifty years. And if that didn’t make you a legend in and of
Gabriel smiled, making his long eyeteeth plain. “Of course. Riqua and I have been among the hunted too many times ourselves to stand by when we could be of help. We’re fortunate to have a brave network of mortals and a few
vayash moru
who refuse to leave the others behind. I know too well what it’s like, hiding in cellars and caves, waiting to be betrayed and burned. So we help others ‘disappear’ and take them to safety.”
“That’s why they call it the Ghost Carriage.” Jonmarc grimaced. “I just hope Kolin doesn’t push his luck too far. Nargi border patrols are nothing to fool around with. I’ve gotten in and out of Nargi myself a few times, if you recall.”
“Usually in about the same shape as the ones you brought in tonight, as I remember.”
“True enough.”
“Another long night.”
Carina looked up at Carroway and nodded. “Seem to be a lot of them lately.” She laid a hand on her swollen belly and Carroway gave her a look of concern. “I’m all right. Honestly. Just tired.”
“Do I need to tell you what I think?”
Carina smiled and patted Carroway’s arm. “I can guess. But there’s work to do.”
“You know, when Tris sent me to Dark Haven, I don’t think he expected you to put me to work!”
“Think of it as part of your healing. It gets you out of bed and moving around, plus it keeps you from feeling sorry for yourself.”
Carroway grinned as he got to his feet. He stretched out his hand to her and winced as she pulled herself up. After six months, he wasn’t good as new, but his left hand had regained nearly enough strength and mobility for him to begin trying to play the lute again. A knife had impaled his hand as he struggled with the assassin who had tried to kill Kiara. That injury left him worse than crippled. For Margolan’s Master Bard, it was a devastating blow. He sighed.
“Maybe I should just go back and focus on arranging music and events,” Carroway said. “Macaria’s been trying to tell me that it’s not the end of the world if I can’t play.”
Carina shook her head. “You’ve made progress. You’re getting flexibility back in your fingers. And the hand pains you less than it did before. Don’t give up. Laisren and Jonmarc both think that you’ll be fine with a little more time. And both of them have been banged up badly enough to know.”
“You’re just saying that because I’m good, free help,” Carroway joked.
Carina gave him a tired smile. “Well, there is that, too. I don’t know what I’d have done these last few months without you and Macaria—and Cam before he went home to Brunnfen.”
“Think he’ll have any problem crossing Margolan? I heard they closed the border, with the plague and all.” Carroway gave a tired grin. “Which also means you can’t get rid of Macaria and me now, even if you wanted to.”
Carina shook her head. “As I heard it, you can leave Principality to go to Margolan, but you can’t enter Principality from Margolan. And no, I don’t think Cam will have problems getting to Isencroft. As for Brunnfen, well, we haven’t been home in twelve years. Now that Father and Alvior are dead, it’s nice to be welcomed back, but it takes more than a letter to make it home again.”
“You’re worried.”
She shrugged. “Of course. I’d have gone with him if I could.” Her hand fell to her belly, and she looked out across the windowless room at the badly wounded
vyrkin
and
vayash moru
Jonmarc and Laisren had brought in from tonight’s attack.
Carroway laid a hand on her shoulder and she looked up at him. “Cam will be fine. You’ll see. And as for this mess,” he said with a look at the crowds of injured refugees that huddled in the room, “we’ll figure something out.” He grinned. “After all, they’ve heard the stories about how you and Royster and Taru fixed the Flow of magic when no one had been able to in over fifty years. And if that didn’t make you a legend in and of
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