Pawn Of The Planewalker (Book 5) Read Online Free Page A

diamonds, fully expecting Garrick and Darien to be dazzled by their brilliance.
    That was the problem with the entirety of the Torean House today. They were comprised of mages who were, by nature, independent and opinionated. They did not follow rules, and they were used to doing as they pleased. That was no surprise, of course. If Toreans dealt well with organization, they would likely already have been in an order to begin with. But unions required rules and restrictions, and when it came to defining these rules, members of the Torean House were like a gang of roosters in a hen house.
    “What do you really want?” Garrick finally said.
    “I want you to lead the Freeborn.”
    “And if I were ever to agree do that, and then
I
did not do as you think necessary, would you not just attempt to dispose of me like you’re trying to dispose of Darien?”
    “It’s not like that.”
    “Isn’t it?”
    “I only want what’s good for the mages.”
    “The mages asked Darien to lead them.”
    “You should get out among them more often, Garrick.”
    “What’s that supposed to mean?”
    Reynard paused, and thought better.
    “I’m sorry,” he said. “That was too firm. But Darien has squandered his goodwill. The mages are bickering. They think electing Darien was a mistake.”
    Garrick grimaced. “Go away, Reynard,” he said.
    “We need to resolve this.”
    “There’s nothing to resolve,” Garrick said. “If you want what’s best for the mages, you’ll stop throwing oil on this fire—and when they grumble, you’ll tell them Darien is a good man who means nothing but the best.”
    Garrick hefted the bow and reached for another practice bolt. He nocked the arrow against the bow’s taut gut and faced the target, feeling Reynard’s gaze. Sweat rolled into one eye. He blinked it away, but still his vision swam. Swordplay rang out from across the field. A breeze blew a single strand of Garrick’s hair over his cheek. The target stood across the field. The bolt was long, the weapon’s pull strong. He concentrated on the black mark at the target’s center and let fly.
    The bolt swept wide.
    “As I said,” Reynard muttered. “Your apprentice is a better shot than you’ll ever be.”
    He turned then, and walked across the field.

Chapter 6

    Garrick was still steaming as he stepped into his chamber—a large suite with a view that overlooked Blue Lake.
    Will, who had been facing away from him and bent inquisitively over a table in the middle of the room, whirled as Garrick entered. He held one hand behind his back.
    “Garrick, sir?” Will said with guilt crawling over his expression. The boy was dressed in a baggy linen over shirt and breeches that had been dirtied at the knees.
    “What are you up to now?” Garrick said, slamming the door with more force than necessary.
    “Uh …”
    Will’s gaze fell to the floor. His hand came forward, holding a small lab book. The words
Mice and Other Small Rodents
were penned on the cover in dark ink.
    Alistair, Garrick’s previous superior, had kept this journal, and many just like it, for years. They were filled with jotted notes and pages of experimental spell work. Darien had retrieved them from the ruins of Alistair’s manor, and presented them to Garrick as a gift after the events at God’s Tower.
    “How many times do I have to tell you I’ll begin your training after things settle?”
    “I’m sorry,” Will said.
    Garrick held his hand out. “Give me the book.”
    Will handed it to him.
    He ran his fingertips over the worn leather binding. The edges were rough, ragged and torn with use. Thin cracks crept over the cover like a spider web spun by time. He riffled through the pages, noting diagrams and sketches. Was it only last spring that Garrick had been a simple apprentice?
    He looked at Will.
    “Are the horses exercised?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “Groomed and fed?”
    Will nodded, his dark eyes widened in a “you can believe me” gaze.
    “How about