“I am concerned,” the premin added, “and possibly more than concerned about the nature of the texts requested ... as you might be.”
That hint of implied collusion on Wynn’s part, before she’d even agreed, was very unsettling. “Why?”
“Several are related to folklore and elemental mysticism,” Hawes answered, “including extracts from findings dating back to just after the Forgotten History ... by guild estimations.”
Wynn, too, found that strange for an old cathologer handling the affairs of a duchy.
“One text requested cannot even be borrowed without permission from the premin of Metaology—likely why he wrote directly to me.”
Wynn stared into those gray hazel eyes when the premin asked again, “Will you speak to Nikolas?”
A cold knot formed in the pit of Wynn’s stomach.
This was all a distraction from the work she was supposed be doing ... finding the location of an orb. But she owed the premin quite a bit in that, and this was about Nikolas. There was also the question of how oddly Hawes acted now. It was the closest thing to uncertainty or worry that Wynn had ever glimpsed in the dark-robed premin.
Wynn finally nodded and rose. “I’ll go now. By this time, all the initiates and apprentices should be in the common hall for supper.”
Still sitting and gripping the letter, Hawes nodded once with a slow blink. “Come report what he tells you as soon as possible.”
“Yes ... yes, of course.”
As Wynn left, she never heard the premin move. After she shut the iron door and scurried away, it wasn’t until she reached the courtyard that she took a deep breath. The night air was already growing chilly, and so were her thoughts. She was caught by one mention by the premin concerning texts sought by a remote master sage....
...including extracts from findings dating back to just after the Forgotten History ...
What would a private sage working in a far-off duchy want with such?
Perhaps it was nothing, and Nikolas’s adopted father was a bored old man, away from the guild, who’d developed eclectic interests. Here and now, though, with all that she was trying to accomplish, it seemed like something more, though she didn’t know what.
Her task for the moment was to learn anything she could from Nikolas, and so she started for the main keep doors. But she’d made it only halfway when a young voice echoed into the courtyard.
“Shade! Come back here ... right now!”
Wynn turned in time to see the sparks of blue eyes in the gatehouse tunnel ... just before Shade bolted out into the courtyard. The dog ran straight up to her, and then Shade plopped down on her haunches. Kyne came running out of the tunnel; her cowl had fallen back off her head, and her tan robe’s skirt was flopping around her little legs.
“That wasn’t nice!” Wynn whispered sharply.
Shade curled a jowl and looked away.
The girl must have taken the dog out into the bailey and only now returned. Wynn was appalled at the way Shade was completely ignoring Kyne’s shouts. Before Wynn said anything more to the dog or Kyne could even catch up, Chane strode out of the gatehouse tunnel with Kyne’s earlier stack of books under one arm.
“Shade!” he rasped so loudly that Kyne flinched where she stood while trying to catch her breath. Wynn frowned as the girl came trotting closer, still panting.
“It’s all right, Journeyor Hygeorht,” Kyne got out. “Master Andraso took us out to the bailey’s southern grove, and Shade just got excited in coming back.”
Wynn’s frown deepened. Perhaps Chane had been right about the dog running the girl ragged. Wynn would have more to say to Shade on that later.
“You should go have your supper,” she told Kyne, and she looked up as Chane approached. “I’ll take Shade inside in a moment. And Master Andraso will hold on to your books until you see him in the morning before breakfast. You won’t need them before then.”
The girl looked longingly at Shade. “I could take her into supper with me. I don’t mind.”
“No,” Wynn said firmly. “You go on.”
Clearly disappointed, Kyne headed off toward the keep’s main doors.
Chane stopped a few paces off and looked around. “Going to supper ... alone?”
Wynn clenched her jaw at such an obvious snipe about Osha.
“No,” she returned. “I have an errand for Premin Hawes.”
Chane raised one eyebrow.
Fearing he’d want to come along, she quickly added, “I’ll tell you about it when I’m done.”
He glanced away, as if she was shutting him out, but she couldn’t take him along even if she’d wanted to. Nikolas would never speak of anything personal in front of someone he didn’t know. Yet Wynn had to do something to pacify Chane.
“It shouldn’t take long,” she said, though it might. “I’ll find you later, at your room.”
Chane turned away toward the northwest building.
Suppressing a sigh, Wynn glanced down at Shade. “And you ...”
Shade raised her tall ears and looked up with eyes narrowed, an expression Wynn had learned to interpret as, “Yes ... what now?”
Wynn got the feeling this query had nothing to do with Shade’s behavior toward Kyne. She groaned and looked away. Was it not enough that she felt caught in some tawdry triangle out of a romance ballad? Did she now have to put up with a four-footed, fur-faced adolescent nagging her to do something about it? And she already knew what Shade expected.
Though the majay-hì and the undead were natural enemies, Shade and Chane had at least worked around that in serving a common cause for Wynn’s sake. Wynn would have never expected Shade to side with Chane on anything else, but they both viewed Osha as an unwanted outsider ... though for differing reasons.
“Come on,” Wynn said tiredly and walked off toward the main doors; the braziers above them had recently been replaced with two mounted cold lamps.
Wynn pulled one door, and Shade pushed past before she stepped into the entryway. Inside, a passage led straight ahead to the main library’s central entrance, but Shade had already turned left down the wider front corridor. Wynn followed to the main archway on the right, which opened into the common hall. She stood there looking about as Shade snuffled, nose in the air.
Supper was well under way. The large hall was filled with sages of all the orders’ colors and even some initiates who lodged on the grounds. Numerous long tables, benches, and stools were haphazardly placed all about, but for the most part meals were an organized affair. Sages—from initiates to masters—took shifts in the kitchens cooking or washing up or serving the meals. The scent of mutton stew was strong tonight.
Shade whined, and a drop of drool fell from her smacking jowls.
—Supper—
Wynn ignored this and looked about for Nikolas, though she didn’t spot him at any of the tables. Her gaze came to a chair near the enormous hearth: there he was, though he wasn’t eating. He sat staring into the flames.
A young, high-pitched voice rose over the buzz. “Shade! I can get your supper!”
Kyne stood on a bench among a small bunch of gobbling, gossiping initiates, all in tan robes like hers. Wynn heard Shade’s low, grumbling growl, and she stumbled slightly when the dog backed up and hit her leg.
“Oh, stop it!” she whispered.
—Wynn ... Shade ... sisters ... pack— ... —Wynn ... not ... my ... parent—
Wynn looked down, and, on spotting Shade’s ears flattening in silence, she called out, “Oh, thank you, Kyne. That would be most helpful.”
As Kyne tried to bound over one companion, she nearly stepped in another’s plate.