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

lunch?”
    “You didn’t say anything about lunch.”
    Garrick laughed. “Your stomach alone should be enough to tell you when to get lunch around.”
    “I’m sorry, sir.”
    “Not to worry. I expect Daventry will still have something in the kitchen. Turkey, probably. Get some for both of us—with bread.”
    “Yes, sir.”
    Will slipped past him, and the door shut gently.
    A quiet settled around him.
    Outside his window, tall ships lay in Dorfort’s port, and men unloaded crates of goods from distant places like Whitestone and Farvane. He put the book back on the table and cast his glance around the chamber. It was larger than any dwelling he had ever occupied before. A padded velour couch ran along the far wall. A desk filled one corner. A connecting room held the library of Alistair’s journals. His bed chamber connected from the other side, linens freshly made and scented with spices from lands to the east.
    Such luxury made him uncomfortable.
    A knock came to his door.
    It would be Will, of course, coming back to double-check his order. The boy could never keep anything right. “Turkey!” he yelled as he whirled. “With bread.”
    The door swung inward.
    Darien stuck his head through the opening.
    “I’ve been called worse, I suppose,” he said with a grin. “But I tend to think of myself as grain–fed steak from Horval.”
    Garrick chuckled despite himself.
    “I thought you were someone else.”
    “I saw the boy slinking out of here. Looked like a whipped pup.”
    Garrick sat on a chair and twisted his lips into a smirk. “I snapped at him.”
    Darien shut the door and took a seat at the edge of the couch. He wore a cape lined with gold thread, a freshly cleaned tunic, and a wide belt polished to a black shine. His boots were spotless. His dark beard had come in fully throughout the months of summer.
    “He’s a lot like you were, isn’t he?” he said.
    “Yes,” Garrick replied. “He is.” He leaned against the windowsill. “How is your father doing?”
    “No change. Your cure has kept him alive, but he is still weak.”
    “He’s a strong man, Darien. But my healing can only go so far. I don’t think I can make anyone immortal.”
    “I know,” Darien said, though his eyes displayed a combination of hurt and confusion that let Garrick know Darien could not possibly understand. “We will see what happens.”
    “I’m sorry to have left him that way,” Garrick said. “It was all I know to do.”
    “He was happy to see you, you know?”
    Garrick didn’t completely agree on that point, but he nodded rather than argue. “To what do I owe this visit?” he said.
    Darien paused.
    “I’m sorry about last night,” he said. “Calling you scatter-brained was out of line.”
    “So, you’ve reconsidered your position on experimentation, and are now all for it?”
    “No. But I apologize for losing my temper. I was tired, and it was late.”
    “You need to trust me on this one Darien.”
    “I do. I trust you.”
    “No, you don’t. You’re not listening. I came here at your request. I gave your father his cure—”
    “Just because you saved my father’s life does not mean I will cave to your wishes when it comes to the people of Dorfort.”
    Garrick’s face flared with heat, and his head throbbed.
    “Don’t twist my words, Darien. We’ve been together too long for that. I didn’t cure your father as a bargaining chip.”
    Darien nodded. “I’m sorry for my insinuation.”
    The two sat in silence for a moment.
    “The mages need to test their work, Darien.”
    “And they can.”
    “But they won’t do it under your plan. You can’t expect to approve every step they take.”
    “That is nonsensical.”
    Garrick felt discomfort rise within him. “Nonsensical” had become Darien’s favorite word, and he said it with that lilt to his voice, that tiny edge that said it wasn’t really the idea that was nonsensical, but the person instead.
    “The city is on edge, Garrick.