Deborah Hale Read Online Free Page A

palms. “A wise outlaw once taught me I should always eat, drink and rest when I have the chance. Otherwise Imight find myself hungry, thirsty and tired at a time when I dare not stop.”
    In spite of all the worries that weighed on him, Rath could feel an impudent grin rippling across his lips. “If you want good advice about staying alive, ask an outlaw.”
    A musical chuckle bubbled from the depths of Maura’s throat, in perfect harmony with the splash of the waterfall. “So I shall, outlaw.”
    As she sipped the water from her hands, Rath bent to drink.
    He had never tasted anything like this! If Maura’s life magic had a flavor, it would taste just so—clean and wholesome, with a wild, vital tang that quenched more than thirst. For a moment at least, it seemed to ease his foreboding and self-doubt, nourishing fragile seedlings of hope and confidence.
    “This is better than ale!” He drank until he could hold no more, then he filled his drink skin and bid Maura do likewise.
    Then he jerked his thumb toward the waterfall and the pool at its base. “Do you reckon we have time for a washup before we head off to Duskport?”
    “The message said ‘Come at once,’” Maura reminded him with an air of apology. “Besides, I fear the longer we tarry here, the harder it will be to make ourselves go. Who knows but we may already have been here longer than we think. Did you not tell me the local folk claim time runs slow in Everwood, and what feels like only a few hours may be months or years in the outside world?”
    “Aye.” Rath forced himself to turn his back on the inviting pool and walk in the direction of a giant hitherpine some distance away. “I always reckoned such tales were only fanciful nonsense. Now that I have been here, I am not so sure.”
    “A pity it could not have been the other way around.” Maura hurried to catch up with him. “Then we might have dallied here a long while with only an hour or two passing in the outside world.”
    “That would have been fine indeed.” Rath reached for her hand.
    Together, they followed the trail of six tall hitherpines until it brought them to the path they had traveled the night before. Now and then, Maura paused long enough to gather a sample of flowers or leaves from some unusual plant they passed.
    “Perhaps one of the Vestan wizards can tell me what magical or healing properties these may possess.” She tucked a cluster of tiny, red, bell-shaped flowerlets into one of the many pockets in the sash she wore over her tunic.
    Rath also wondered what those innocent-looking little blossoms might do—make his mouth lock shut or knock him into a dead swoon? Since meeting Maura, he had learned the difference between the gentle vitcraft she practiced, using plant and animal matter, and the lethal mortcraft wielded by the Echtroi with their wands of metal and gemstones. Though he had come to respect the capricious power of her life-magic, he still had trouble trusting it.
    When he spotted a familiar-looking boulder, draped with moss, Rath beckoned Maura off the path, though part of him wondered where it might lead them if they continued to follow it.
    “Where next?” asked Maura.
    “A brook, wasn’t it?” Rath glanced around, his ears pricked for the sound of flowing water. “Why don’t you check the map, just to make certain.”
    “I thought you had it.”
    Rath shook his head. The last time he recalled seeing it was yesterday night, after they’d climbed the rock stair beside the waterfall. The appearance of the massive goldenwolf who’d led them on the final leg of their journey had driven all thought of the map from his mind.
    Maura patted the pouches of her sash, then checked the hidden pocket in the hem of her skirt. “We must have left it back in the Secret Glade.”
    Rath shrugged. “That could be for the best. I reckon either of us could remember how to find the place again in need. But I would not want that map falling into the wrong