The Shadow at the Gate Read Online Free

buildings in general, was impressed despite herself. It had been a long time since she had been to Hearne, and she had forgotten. From within a vast anteroom vaulted with stone arches curving overhead, hallways and staircases stretched away in every possible direction, all fashioned of white marble polished to a brilliance glimmering with the light of countless lamps. Servants flitted by on silent feet. Somewhere, an unseen fountain splashed. The steward showed them into a suite of chambers that seemed to extend on forever—door after door opening up into more rooms, a solarium with its glassed-in roof revealing the starry sky, and a kitchen where three servants bowed and smiled and bowed again.
    “They will see to your needs,” said the steward.
    The three servants smiled, bowed again, and murmured polite noises.
    In no time at all, a fire was crackling on the hearth, candles gleamed, and one of the servants whisked in with a platter of bread, cheese, and fruits.
    “Perhaps an omelet?” said the duke, but his wife frowned at him.
    “It’s much too late,” she said. “Your stomach will rumble all night.”
    “A nice, light omelet—”
    “Have an apple.”
    Levoreth took an apple as well. Her bedroom had a balcony that looked out across the city below. She leaned on the railing and bit into the apple. Lights twinkled in the darkness, past the castle wall. Something trembled in the air, a slight heat and the hush of the wind holding its breath. A storm was coming. She could smell the promise of rain. She closed her eyes. Her thoughts flew far and fast, but there was nothing but darkness and cold and a mist that pressed against her mind.
    Something is there. Something evil. Near the mountains. The wolves must hunt alone for a while more. A storm is coming.
    Far in the east, thunder rumbled. She went inside and locked the balcony doors.

 
    CHAPTER THREE
    THE SHADOW AT THE GATE
     
    Lightning fell far in the east. Whips of white flame lashed out of the gloom of clouds and darkness. The sky was scarred with traceries of fire that burned on a man’s sight for minutes afterward. The air was thick with heat and the taste of metal and the promise of rain. Thunder muttered. It was the only sound in the sky, for there was no wind. The thunder sounded like the growl of some strange beast stalking through the stars and darkness of the sky.
    The city of Hearne was oddly deserted that evening, despite the beginning of the Autumn Fair. A few stalls and carts still stood on the cobbles of Mioja Square, but there was no heart in the vendors as they hawked their wares. No one was buying onions or yarns or pottery or any of the other goods. Thunder rumbled, growing in volume as it neared. The last of the barrows trundled away. Along the streets, the shops were shuttered against the night. Only the inns were impervious to the approaching storm, being more crowded than usual as if there was safety in mirth and wine and numbers.
    The animals of the city were behaving strangely. The head groom at the regent’s castle walked through the stables, perplexed at the sight of horses stamping nervously in their stalls. One placid old hunter lunged at him over the bars with bared teeth. Down in the Fishgate district, a child’s kitten scratched her and then ran yowling from the house. Dogs crept under beds and refused to come out. Cats disappeared into cellars and attics.
    In Nio’s house, the wihht stood up straight in the silence and darkness of the basement. It turned its head ever so slightly from side to side, nostrils flaring as if it were trying to smell something. Its eyes gleamed with a cold, hungry light. Three stories above the wihht, in the comfort of his library, Nio sat reading by candlelight. He stirred uneasily, but it cannot be said whether this was because of what he was reading or something else. In the university ruins, the old scholars did not notice anything unusual. This was understandable, for the magic was so thick