Voyage of the Fox Rider Read Free

tap sounded in the darkened room.
    “I said, go away! I am busy!”
    Once more came the persistent tapping.
    “Oh bother!” Irritated, the eld Man gestured, and a soft blue glow sprang into being before him. “All right, all right, I’m coming!” he called out peevishly, jotting a note in a journal lying open before him on the astrolabe stand.
    Snapping the journal shut and sliding from the tall stool, the elder hobbled across the room, muttering all the while—“Not enough that the hearthlights and street lanterns from the city interfere, but now some
fool
has to come along and…”
    Flinging the door open and querulously snapping, “Well, what do you—?” the Man’s words chopped tosilence, for there afoot on the threshold was a tiny person no more than twelve inches tall. Dressed in varying shades of grey, she was, and a tiny bow and a quiver of arrows were slung across her back. Her hair was mouse brown, and her eyes were cobalt blue, and behind her stood a black-footed red fox.
    She looked up at the Man, his face illuminated by the blue glow, his features ghastly in the spectral light. Nevertheless, she squared her shoulders and asked, “Are you Alamar the Mage?” Though high-pitched, her voice came softly.
    “
Hmph!
I never thought to see a Pysk on
my
doorstone.”
    “Are you Alamar the Mage?” she repeated.
    At the Man’s nod a look of relief spread over her face. “Oh, I’m so glad. My name is Jinnarin”—she gestured toward the fox—“and Rux and I have come a long way to find you. You see, Farrix is missing.”

C HAPTER 3
    Herb Tea and Wild Honey
    Early Spring, 1E9574
    [Six Months Past]
    A s Jinnarin uncinched a harness strap and hefted the travelling packs from Rux’s back, Alamar rummaged about in a cupboard, grumbling, “Herb tea. Herb tea.
Ha!
In the back—dratted mice.”
    A smile flickered across Jinnarin’s face.
Farrix
said
that Alamar was eccentric, yet surely the Mage doesn’t believe that mice conspire against him, hiding the tea
. She dropped the packs to the hearthstone and then selected twigs from the fireside wood box and added them to the faint coals.
    Alamar hobbled to the fireplace. “You will be wanting some tea, too, neh?”
    “Oh yes, please,” answered Jinnarin, placing small branches among the growing flames as Rux curled up before the hearth.
    Alamar hooked the handle of a small copper pot on the kettle iron and swivelled it out above the fire. Without another word, the Mage returned to his seat at the astrolabe and once again sighted up through the open roof trap at the stars above. After a moment—
“Blast!”
He glared over his shoulder at the fire, and grumbling, jerked at a chain, the trapdoor above slamming to with a
Blam!
Rux leaped up and looked wildly about; Jinnarin, too, was startled.
    With a gesture of dismissal, Alamar jotted a last note in his journal, mumbling, “
Pox!
I missed it.” and slid from his stool as Jinnarin soothed Rux, the fox eyeing the Mage suspiciously.
    Alamar hobbled to a large, cluttered, rolltop desk and cast the journal down among scrolls and tomes and scattered papers, pausing long enough to jerk a parchment from a pigeonhole and scowl at it a moment, then roll it up and jam it back in.
    Behind, the kettle began to whistle, the unexpected sound bringing Rux again to his feet, the fox interposing himself between Jinnarin and the Mage, hackles raised, one lip slightly curled, a sharp canine showing.
    Alamar simply glared at the beast and stumped to the kettle, while once again Jinnarin soothed Rux, the hair on the animal’s back slowly settling down.
    Spooning herbs into a porcelain pot. Alamar glowered at Jinnarin. “Have you got a cup?” The Mage filled the teapot with steaming water.
    Fumbling through the packs that Rux had borne, she withdrew a carven acorn, a handle affixed to one side, a base attached to the bottom.
    Alamar again returned to the cabinet, rattling about, extracting an earthenware cup and a small