by John Daulton
“He’s already showed me how,” she said.
“Well, still, I don’t think you need to have a weapon like that just now. It’s pretty dangerous for a little girl.”
Pernie made a face at that. “No it’s not. Master Altin said I can keep Master Spadebreaker’s pick and it can cut through anything. Roberto said this can’t cut through lots of stuff.”
Orli heard Perfuvius and Kettle at the top of the stairs. She stood and shook her head. “No,” she said. “Not until you are older. But you can have it when you turn eighteen, how’s that?”
“Miss Pewter,” called the master dressmaker, sounding as if he were finally coming back down the stairs. “Let’s hurry now. It’s almost time to go.”
Orli turned toward his voice as Pernie pulled the weapon out of the chest. Orli heard the click of the safety and spun back in time to see Pernie glaring up at her with the darkest look in her narrowed eyes. And then the child fired, point-blank at Orli’s heart.
Chapter 55
A slender hand pushed the blaster away, green-fleshed and barely a blur, appearing just in time to direct the weapon down and away from Orli’s tender bosom. The bright red line of the laser vanished through the gauzy skirts of her wedding gown instead, passing through them so closely that she could feel the heat against her thigh. She’d barely gasped, barely had time to realize what Pernie had done, and then it was over. The shot was fired and Seawind was standing there with his hand still on the gun.
Pernie blinked up at him, bewildered by his arrival, but her first instinct was to pull the gun away. She yanked at it with all her strength, several long tugs, her jaw set and her expression indicating that she was intent on having another shot. Though, perhaps not, for the child had nothing to say.
The elf caught the girl’s gaze in his own when at length she stopped pulling at the gun, and for a time the two of them simply stared into one another’s eyes, Pernie’s blue ones as fearless and studious as were his forest greens.
Shadesbreath appeared beside her as this went on, manifesting silently at her right hand like a wraith from the grave. “Let go,” he said as he gripped her wrist gently in his gray-green hand. He could have opened her fingers with the press of his fingers there. She swung her gaze around to see who it was, her eyes flung wide upon recognizing him. He glanced at the weapon, a negligible movement of his head, then looked up to his elven companion with a nod. He repeated the soft command. “Let go.”
She opened her hand mechanically, and watched the gun rise as Seawind lifted it away. Seawind nodded to Shadesbreath. “It is done.”
“It is,” the royal assassin confirmed.
“I will take her.”
“I will tell the Queen and fetch the pet.”
Seawind and Pernie vanished as Kettle and the royal dressmaker came into the room. Kettle saw them go and began to scream. “Pernie! Pernie!” she cried as she rushed forward into the empty space, but it was already far too late. She stared blankly at where the girl had been, her eyes wide, her mouth wider. But there was nothing she could do. She spun on the assassin standing there instead. “What’s that monster done with mah baby girl?” She squared up to the leather-clad figure and looked as if she might grab him by the throat. “Where is that wee child gone, ya filthy murderer? Ya got no right ta take her, so ya can go right now an’ get her back. I’m givin’ ya three seconds an’ then yer gonna get it good. And don’t think ya won’t neither, ‘cause I done fer worse than the likes a’ you.”
Shadesbreath looked into the florid face of Kettle whose whole body was swelling up like a fighting rooster, and whose eyes looked as if they might begin to steam. His own eyes narrowed, as if he were thinking, as if he had to search for the right words to say. Apparently he found them, for he simply replied, “I understand separation will grieve you. But it is as it must be.” With that he vanished, leaving Kettle to gape into the air before her as she sputtered and spewed, repeating his parting words over and over again.
“It must be? It must be?”
Orli could only stare with her, still stunned by having nearly being shot and just as wide-eyed and stupefied as Kettle was.
Perfuvius Needlesprig III glanced back and forth between them for a moment, but all he could think to say was, “By the gods, Miss Pewter, what have you done to my dress!”
The End
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Table of Contents
Series
Title
ISBN
Dedication
Map
Chapter_1
Chapter_2
Chapter_3
Chapter_4
Chapter_5
Chapter_6
Chapter_7
Chapter_8
Chapter_9
Chapter_10
Chapter_11
Chapter_12
Chapter_13
Chapter_14
Chapter_15
Chapter_16
Chapter_17
Chapter_18
Chapter_19
Chapter_20
Chapter_21
Chapter_22
Chapter_23
Chapter_24
Chapter_25
Chapter_26
Chapter_27
Chapter_28
Chapter_29
Chapter_30
Chapter_31
Chapter_32
Chapter_33
Chapter_34
Chapter_35
Chapter_36
Chapter_37
Chapter_38
Chapter_39
Chapter_40
Chapter_41
Chapter_42
Chapter_43
Chapter_44
Chapter_45
Chapter_46
Chapter_47
Chapter_48
Chapter_49
Chapter_50
Chapter_51
Chapter_52
Chapter_53
Chapter_54
Chapter_55
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