Debt of Bones Read Free Page B

the old woman’s eyes on her back. Abby hugged the sack against the burning anxiety in her abdomen and told herself that it wouldn’t be long, and then she would see him.
    As they waited, the old woman remained silent, and Abby was glad for that. Occasionally, she glanced at the door, imploring the good spirits to help her. But she realized it was futile; the good spirits wouldn’t be disposed to help her in this.
    A roar came from the room beyond the doors. It was like the sound of an arrow zipping through the air, or a long switch whipping, but much louder, intensifying rapidly. It ended with a shrill crack accompanied by a flash of light coming under the doors and around their edges. The doors shuddered on their hinges.
    Sudden silence rang in Abby’s ears. She found herself gripping the arms of the chair.
    Both doors opened. The noble’s two attendants marched out, followed by the sorceress. The three stopped in the waiting room. Abby sucked a breath.
    One of the two men was cradling the noble’s head in the crook of an arm. The wan features of the face were frozen in a mute scream. Thick strings of blood dripped onto the carpet.
    “Show them out,” the sorceress hissed through gritted teeth to one of the two guards at the door.
    The guard dipped his pike toward the stairs, ordering them ahead, and then followed the two men down. Crimson drops splattered onto the white marble of the steps as they descended. Abby sat in stiff, wide-eyed shock.
    The sorceress wheeled back to Abby and the old woman.
    The woman rose to her feet. “I believe that I would rather not bother the First Wizard today. I will return another day, if need be.”
    She hunched lower toward Abby. “I am called Mariska.” Her brow drew down. “May the good spirits grant that you succeed.”
    She shuffled to the stairs, rested a hand on the marble railing, and started down. The sorceress snapped her fingers and gestured. The remaining guard rushed to accompany the woman, as the sorceress turned back to Abby.
    “The First Wizard will see you now.”
     
    A bby gulped air, trying to get her breath as she lurched to her feet.
    “What happened? Why did the First Wizard do that?”
    “The man was sent on behalf of another to ask a question of the First Wizard. The First Wizard gave his answer.”
    Abby clutched her sack to herself for dear life as she gaped at the blood on the floor. “Might that be the answer to my question, if I ask it?”
    “I don’t know the question you would ask.” For the first time, the sorceress’s expression softened just a bit. “Would you like me to see you out? You could see another wizard or, perhaps, after you’ve given more thought to your petition, return another day, if you still wish it.”
    Abby fought back tears of desperation. There was no choice. She shook her head. “I must see him.”
    The sorceress let out a deep breath. “Very well.” She put a hand under Abby’s arm as if to keep her on her feet. “The First Wizard will see you now.”
    Abby hugged the contents of her sack as she was led into the chamber where waited the First Wizard. Torches in iron sconces were not yet burning. The late-afternoon light from the glassed roof windows was still strong enough to illuminate the room. It smelled of pitch, lamp oil, roasted meat, wet stone, and stale sweat.
    Inside, confusion and commotion reigned. There were people everywhere, and they all seemed to be talking at once. Stout tables set about the room in no discernible pattern were covered with books, scrolls, maps, chalk, unlit oil lamps, burning candles, partially eaten meals, sealing wax, pens, and a clutter of every sort of odd object, from balls of knotted string to half-spilled sacks of sand. People stood about the tables, engaged in conversations or arguments, as others tapped passages in books, pored over scrolls, or moved little painted weights about on maps. Others rolled slices of roasted meat plucked from platters and nibbled as they