Lark Rising (Guardians of Tarnec) Read Free Page A

friend, a young man who I believed was in love with Evie. I could find a reason to touch Raif, to gain proof of his feelings, but I was too close to Evie to know if her feelings matched his; I could not read her as I did others.
    Thinking such thoughts eased the cold somewhat. I sat up a little straighter. Rileg saw his opportunity and weaseled his way between cousin and grandmother to lick my hand. I smiled at him, and his tail madly swatted the two women. He made us all laugh.
    Evie turned her attention to making a sleeping tea while Grandmama removed the hand. It was done. I would never see where she put it, but I knew that was the end of my apron. Favorite or not, I was glad both it and the dark thing were gone from the cottage, and the simple habits of bedtime rituals and kind good-nights were completed and bestowed untainted.
    Evie and I climbed the stairs to our attic rooms. Each night before retiring we sat on the bench on the landing, braiding our hair and gossiping, as any girls might, about the daily doings of the boys and girls of our age. Since I did not ventureout of our property every day as Evie did, she held court with her information and I loved to listen. Evie’s voice is musical and sweet; her words slipped through and over me, little details added to her supper tales—enough to keep me smiling, picturing a happy and pleasant market day of bustling business and amusing folk.
    “Tell me more of Cath,” I asked her. “Did she find a way to put the daisy in Quin’s pocket?”
    Evie grinned. “Has Cath ever worked a spell properly the first time? Rather, we’ll soon see Quin’s infant cousin making moon-eyes at her.”
    I said with affected concern, “Then she will be disappointed. I do not think little Nalen will take his thumb from his mouth to steal a kiss.”
    Evie smirked, then shook her head. “ ’Tis well that Cath does not know Quin is sweet on Nance. What hex might she try instead?”
    “
Poor
Quin,” I mocked. “Serves him right for all his teasing.” Though truly, I’d want to spare my good friend from Cath’s suffocating attention. “Well, if she asks you for any hexes, Evie, tell her she must put walnuts in her shoes.”
    “Walnuts”—Evie looked as if she were seriously considering—“are an excellent cure for rheumatism.” And we giggled, a little more foolishly than we would on other nights.
    And then, maybe because Raif most likely would not have entered the conversation, or maybe because I was wondering what Evie had felt when she learned the hand was from Ruber Minwl, wondering if she herself would bring Raif the sad news,I blurted, “Are you sweet on someone? Would you sneak a daisy into a pocket?”
    “Lark!” Evie feigned her blush, I was sure, for she never blushed. “You ask for secrets.”
    “Nay, I only ask what you’d share with me. You would share this, Evie, wouldn’t you?”
    “Always. No daisies. There, I’ve told you. I’ve no wish to catch a heart by spell.”
    “Captivated instead by the pure magic of your presence,” I teased. “There would be many suitors to choose from, then.”
    Evie did not respond with humor as I’d expected. “Many? Nay, there should be just one.”
    “Then who
should
it be?”
    She was quiet, regarding me, her blue eyes taking a somber gaze. “Choose for me,” she said suddenly.
    I did not like this change of mood and so laughed at her gravity and how silly that seemed. “Me? Why so?”
    I’d teased too much, or touched a subject she did not like, for she was silent for a longer moment. But then, like a lamp lit to break the dark, Evie grinned and tugged my brown braid. “Because you have the Sight, dearest Lark. You will know. You choose the one I will love. I trust you—you’ll choose well.”
    I would always marvel at my cousin: how she could be so frank with her thoughts, yet betray none of her feelings. She’d spoken honestly, but if she was asking me to choose Raif, she’d given nothing away.