Call of Kythshire (Keepers of the Wellsprings Book 1) Read Online Free

and mockingly charge at her, playing at recreating my greeting.
    “Really, flashing your swords in the dining hall. Someone’s liable to get killed.” She ducks her head and bats Bryse away.
    “Nah, Donal would heal us up in no time.” Bryse eyes the pheasant hungrily and tries to steal a taste as Mum helps Mouli with the tray. I laugh. This place is my refuge from the outside. Here there are no airs and graces. We’ve been a guild together for so long we’re as comfortable as family.
    The meeting hall is a great square room. Its rich stone walls are decorated with several generations’ worth of tokens, trophies, and tapestries. In the center of the room is a long table lined with benches, which is used for both dining and planning. The great hearth, just inside the door, is encircled with an array of comfortable mismatched stuffed arm chairs.  At the far end of the hall beyond the long table, the walls are lined with shelves of books, scrolls, and maps. There are several writing desks there as well, for studying and drafting letters and plans.
    Everything here in the guild hall is shared between its members. I’ve played as a toddler on its plush carpets as my parents planned their routes, and I’ve sat for hours practicing my writing as Uncle watched over my shoulder.  I’ve fallen asleep in the comfortable chairs when meetings ran too long, and I’ve crawled along the floor beside Rian as we made a game of tracking down the source of ants in springtime. This is my home, and my family, and with my induction as Squire I’m finally a true and official member of its company.
    As I begin to drowse beside the low embers of the fire, I’m aware of the steady snoring which has been constant since we were in the passage. I turn to the chair beside me. How anyone could have slept through the chaos of my welcome is beyond me, but there Elliot lies, his legs draped over the chair’s arm, sound asleep. Now his nose twitches beneath a shaggy fringe of red hair as the smell of pheasant and pie and so many other wonderful things fills the room. Very slowly, he raises his head. His eyes, which have always struck me as an exotic shade of gold, take a moment to focus on me. In an instant he leaps up onto the cushion and his loaded bow appears pointed at my forehead faster than I can blink.
    “Azi!” he shouts, and I’m too exhausted to do anything but shrink back into the chair and curl my knees up to guard myself. I let out a tiny squeal of surrender and cross my arms over my face.
    “Too late.” Bryse says from the table, where he’s already heaping his dish with potatoes and both pheasant legs.
    “Missed it.” Cort smirks and grabs a leg from Bryse, who growls and threatens a stab with his fork.
    “Aw.” Elliot stretches, tosses his bow onto the chair cushion, and saunters to the table. “This looks amazing, Mouli.”
    Wearily, I push myself up from the chair and join the meal. Dining at the guild hall is informal. There is no head of the table, everyone sits where they are most comfortable. I slide in next to Rian, who is a bit taller than me and rail thin. His slightly pointed ears peek out from his short cropped auburn hair. He grins at me as I sit, and leans to bump my shoulder with his. His mother, Mya, sits beside him. Her build is heartier and it is obvious Rian gets his height from her. It’s strange to see her dressed for a performance.  Her usually spiked red hair is smoothed back with a sparkling band, and she wears a revealing sleeveless gown with long slits revealing her bare legs. Beside Mya, Elliot is unremarkable aside from the wood elf’s point to his ears and the soft deer leathers he wears, dyed green.
    Across the table, my parents greet each other with a kiss. Smiling, she smoothes back my father’s sandy gray hair and serves him a plate before taking her own. Beside them, Uncle Gaethon, her brother, straightens a stack of pages beside his dish. I pile my own plate with meat and root