His Father's Eyes - eARC Read Online Free Page B

the spell, or knock over the bottle. You weren’t there for what happened next.”
    Namid had a way of going still; it almost seemed like he turned from water to ice, and most of the time I thought it was very cool. Not now. Seeing his face harden, his body tense, I shivered, as from a winter wind.
    “Tell me,” he said.
    “I’m not sure exactly what happened. I was trying to sneak up on a guy, and when I kicked over the bottle he raised his weapon and fired at me. Three times. I couldn’t have been more than ten feet from him, and though he couldn’t see me, he aimed right at my chest. I . . .” I took a breath. “I should be dead.”
    “Why are you not?”
    “I don’t know. But in the instant that his finger moved, I was almost sure I felt a spell. I—I thought that maybe you had intervened.”
    “You know that I cannot.”
    “You did, not that long ago.”
    “The circumstances were different. Cahors was our . . . screwup.” The phrase sounded odd coming from him. “I cannot keep you safe in the normal course of your life. My responsibilities lie elsewhere.”
    I would have liked to ask him about that, too. Another time.
    “Maybe I imagined it, then.”
    “Is it possible that you cast without intending, without even knowing that you did it?”
    I grinned. “I’m not sure how to answer that.”
    “I am not sure how you could, either,” the myste said, his tone wry. “But you understand the point I am making.”
    “Yes. But I don’t think that’s what happened. I was scrambling to cast a different sort of spell. I should have cast a warding, but it all happened so fast.” I shook my head. “Maybe he missed, plain and simple, though I don’t see how he could have. Is it possible that another of your kind has taken an interest in me?”
    “Another of my kind?”
    “Another runemyste.”
    “I have told you, Ohanko: It is against the laws that govern my kind to interfere in your world. Another of my kind would be bound by the same prohibitions that bind me. And where you are concerned, another runemyste would not chafe at those prohibitions nearly as much as I do.”
    I made no effort to mask my surprise; he wasn’t usually prone to such kindnesses. “Thank you, Namid. That might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
    His translucent hand flicked out in annoyance. “I mean simply that others have not invested so much time and energy in your training. They would not be inconvenienced by your death the way I would.”
    That was more like the Namid I had come to know over the years.
    “Still, I’m touched.”
    Namid frowned, but I could tell that my questions had piqued his curiosity. Or maybe it was more than that. Maybe he was scared.
    “If it was someone else,” I said, “a weremyste or a runemyste who’s less bound than you are by arbitrary rules, it’s all right. He or she saved my life. It’s like I have a guardian angel.”
    This deepened the myste’s scowl. “There are no guardian angels, Ohanko. There are sorcerers and mystes, and they rarely act out of altruism.”
    “So you believe that someone wants me alive for a specific reason?”
    “I do not know what to believe. I will have to think on this at greater length.” He started to fade from view. “Tread like the fox, Ohanko. Do not screw up anymore.”
    I chuckled. “Thanks, ghost.”
    I heard another rumble, like the whisper of approaching thunder. A moment later he was gone.
    I stood, stretched my back, and crossed to the answering machine, which was a relic from a time when devices like this used tiny little cassette tapes. I had several messages, most of them from prospective clients. One was from Billie Castle, who was, for lack of a better term, my girlfriend.
    “Hey, Fearsson, it’s me.” I couldn’t help the dumb grin that spread across my face every time I heard her voice. “I know you’re working, and I know we have plans for Friday, but I was wondering if you had time for lunch tomorrow.