The Gantean (Tales of Blood & Light Book 1) Read Online Free Page B

enter.” He indicated the other door in the hall. “You’ll sleep here. It’s nothing much. I asked for a Gantean partly for that reason. I expect you’ve never slept on a mattress, have you?”
    “We sleep in hanging beds or on the floor atop furs.”
    “Hammocks? She never—” Tiercel broke off. I peered in at the room that was to be my own—a startling idea, privacy. I’d never had it in Gante, though I’d often wished for it.
    “Will it do?” Tiercel asked.
    I nodded, surprised to be asked.
    “Then come see the birds.” He urged me back towards the largest room with the cages. Sconces on the wall had flickered on in the growing dark—magelights. Ganteans said the southerners’ spent their magic on lighting the night, but I had never truly believed such tales. It seemed too wasteful to imagine. I peered up at the sconces, hoping for a closer look, but Tiercel pulled my attention away.
    “The raptors are solitary creatures,” he said as he opened a pen. “They do not naturally look for the company of people. I like to introduce new ones to many people. It helps me to train them.” He donned a long glove and coaxed the bird onto his wrist, murmuring to it as if in conversation.
    “Do they speak to you?” I blurted, thinking he might be a shaman who could communicate with animals.
    He smiled. Tiercel struck me as kinder than the other southerners. Kinder than most Ganteans, too. “In a way.”
    “Is it magic? Can you see them in the—the Spirit Layer?” I fumbled for a good way to translate what Ganteans called Yaqi—the layer of magic, the place where the bloodlights were visible. The Spirit Layer was the best I could do.
    “The Spirit Layer? Do you mean the Aethers? Amassis, no. I have no magic. When I was tested by the Conservatoire analyst I failed every task.” That same bleak look marred his expression again. “My first son had magic.”
    Tiercel’s sadness did not fade as quickly as it had the last time. “My work with the hawks is no more than a knack,” he said. “Here, have her stand on your hand.”
    The bird stepped onto my gloved hand.
    “There,” said Tiercel. “See how well she settles for you. Now, Lili, you mustn’t play with the birds. They are very delicately trained, and I cannot have you interfering with their learning. You may only handle the birds under my supervision, do you understand?”
    I nodded, but sudden exhaustion nearly made my knees buckle.
    “Look at you,” Tiercel said with almost avuncular concern. “You’re dead on your feet. Go to bed early. We’ll get you more acquainted with your duties tomorrow.”
----
    I woke the following morning with an ache in my stomach. Surely they meant to feed me? Or did I have to fend for myself? I went outside and scanned the rolling meadows, but the only plants I could see were the white, bell-like blooms. Nothing familiar—no moss or saxifrage, no cold onions or mushrooms. I was puzzling over what kind of plants Lethemians might eat when Tiercel came up the path carrying a tray.
    “Awake then, Lili?” he said. “Are you hungry?”
    My stomach gave an answering growl, and I fell into step behind Tiercel, drawn by the scents wafting from his tray.
    “I’ll have to show you where the kitchens are so you can fetch the food from now on,” he said. “It will be one of your tasks.”
    The man’s continued kindness startled me after everything I’d been through: the massacre and capture, the humiliating and terrifying auction, the pain inflicted upon me when I’d arrived at the mansion. I had not imagined anyone would look at me the way Tiercel did, with compassion in his odd silver eyes.
    He set down his tray on the desk, but I recognized nothing upon it. Several vessels exuded steam. I had the uncomfortable feeling that the food needed tending, and I was expected to do it.
    “Pour,” Tiercel prompted, gesturing to one of the steaming vessels.
    I had no idea what he meant. “What?”
    “Watch. Next time