Debt of Bones Read Free Page A

men more than able to handle any trouble that might come up the stairs.
    The sorceress nodded toward a dozen thickly tufted leather chairs set in four groups. Abby waited until the others had seated themselves in two of the groupings and then sat by herself in another. She placed the sack in her lap and rested her hands over its contents.
    The sorceress stiffened her back. “I will tell the First Wizard that he has supplicants who wish to see him.”
    A guard opened one of the double doors for her. As she was swallowed into the great room beyond, Abby was able to snatch a quick glimpse. She could see that it was well lighted by glassed skylights. There were other doors in the gray stone of the walls. Before the door closed, Abby was also able to see a number of people, men and women both, all rushing hither and yon.
    Abby sat turned away from the old woman and the three men as with one hand she idly stroked the sack in her lap. She had little fear that the men would talk to her, but she didn’t want to talk to the woman; it was a distraction. She passed the time going over in her mind what she planned to say to Wizard Zorander.
    At least she tried to go over it in her mind. Mostly, all she could think about was what the sorceress had said, that the First Wizard was called the wind of death, not only by the D’Harans, but also by his own people of the Midlands. Abby knew it was no tale to scare off supplicants from a busy man. Abby herself had heard people whisper of their great wizard, “The wind of death.” Those whispered words were uttered in dread.
    The lands of D’Hara had sound reason to fear this man as their enemy; he had destroyed countless of their troops, from what Abby had heard. Of course, if they hadn’t invaded the Midlands, bent on conquest, they would not have felt the hot wind of death.
    Had they not invaded, Abby wouldn’t be sitting there in the Wizard’s Keep—she would be at home, and everyone she loved would be safe.
    Abby marked again the odd tingling sensation from the bracelet. She ran her fingers over it, testing its unusual warmth. This close to a person of such power it didn’t surprise her that the bracelet was warming. Her mother had told her to wear it always, and that someday it would be of value. Abby didn’t know how, and her mother had died without ever explaining.
    Sorceresses were known for the way they kept secrets, even from their own daughters. Perhaps if Abby had been born gifted …
    She sneaked a peek over her shoulder at the others. The old woman was leaning back in her chair, staring at the doors. The noble’s attendants sat with their hands folded as they casually eyed the room.
    The noble was doing the oddest thing. He had a lock of sandycolored hair wound around a finger. He stroked his thumb over the lock of hair as he glared at the doors.
    Abby wanted the wizard to hurry up and see her, but time stubbornly dragged by. In a way, she wished he would refuse. No, she told herself, that was unacceptable. No matter her fear, no matter her revulsion, she must do this. Abruptly, the door opened. The sorceress strode out toward Abby.
    The noble surged to his feet. “I will see him first.” His voice was cold threat. “That is not a request.”
    “It is our right to see him first,” Abby said without forethought. When the sorceress folded her hands, Abby decided she had best go on. “I’ve waited since dawn. This woman was the only one waiting before me. These men came at the last of the day.”
    Abby started when the old woman’s gnarled fingers gripped her forearm. “Why don’t we let these men go first, dearie? It matters not who arrived first, but who has the most important business.”
    Abby wanted to scream that her business was important, but she realized that the old woman might be saving her from serious trouble in accomplishing her business. Reluctantly, she gave the sorceress a nod. As the sorceress led the three men through the door, Abby could feel