The Goblets Immortal by Beth Overmyer (read 50 shades of grey .TXT) 📕

gave her a wry smile. “Because you said your visions came with a cost, and I assume, judging from the wretched pain you sounded to be in, that the cost was paid last night for another one.”

Larkin did not regard him with a friendly eye as she took a calming sip of cider and put her pipe out. She tucked the instrument back in her pouch. Grimacing, she shook her head. “It was all nonsense, really. And don’t feel smart for figuring out my curse that easily. Each of us that’s Blest has got some price to pay for it, Lord Ingledark. You know as well as any.”

There was a loud crash, which caused Aidan to jump and turn to Slaíne. The seer, not surprisingly, had not moved an inch but took to picking at her nails.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothin’,” Slaíne said, though her brow was creased. “Just knocked over my chair. Clumsy today, I am.” She righted the furniture and sat down on it.

Aidan decided to not look at her a moment longer than was necessary, and took a seat of his own. “Right, so. You say Lord Dewhurst has a map.”

The seer favored him with a curt nod. “The one which you believe is impossible to get. You who can Summon and Dismiss at will.”

Aidan shook his head. “You do not know how my particular brand of magic works.”

“Then enlighten us.”

He gave Slaíne a sideways glance, and was surprised to find her still pensive. But he ignored her discomfiture and began an explanation of his own abilities. “In order to get rid of something, I have to Recognize it.” He paused. “Say I wanted to Dismiss a chair in the next room here in this inn. I could concentrate, find a Pull, but if I didn’t have a line of sight and have never explored that chair’s Pull before, I might Dismiss only part of it, or something else entirely.”

Through this explanation, the seer nodded and continued picking at her nails. When he paused, she looked up. “Go on.”

“Well, say you could get me within half a mile of the map, I wouldn’t be able to Call or Dismiss and then Summon it to myself. I don’t know its Pull, follow?”

“It’s not familiar,” Slaíne chimed in.

Aidan afforded her a small nod, but his gaze returned at once to Larkin, who was smirking. “What? You have some solution to this problem?”

“No, I just like the thought of you getting your revenge.”

That caught him off guard. “What do I need revenge for?”

“For what Lord Dewhurst did to you and your reputation, that’s what.” She turned to Slaíne. “Didn’t he tell you why he’s a wanted man?”

Aidan raked a hand back through his hair and drained his cup. This woman. The nerve, suggesting that he need to avenge himself against the dandy. Yes, the idea was tempting. But that he would actually take the law into his own hands? The thought was ridiculous. He said as much, and the woman laughed in his face.

“Get the map, Lord Ingledark. Do to that fiend what he would have done to you, had you not run fast enough. Take back what is rightfully yours.”

“What’s she sayin’, Mr. Aidan?”

“It doesn’t matter, Slaíne. Seer, I have no taste for vengeance. If you, on the other hand, have need of it, I won’t stand in your way.” They were silent then, the three of them, for Aidan motioned for them to be so; there were several Pulls at the door, familiar Pulls from yesterday. “Just the servants bringing breakfast.” They all let out a collective breath of relief and went back to their previous occupations.

After the servants had laid down their wares – plates full of potato hash, ham, wheat cakes, and honey – they left, and Aidan could feel that they were out of eavesdropping range. The three continued their conversation.

It was Larkin who first spoke again. “Fine. The girl will cause a distraction, you will get into the house and retrieve the map, and I will deal with his so-called lordship. Sound like a good plan to you?”

Aidan had no intention of following her plan, but he did not offer his dissent. Instead, he scratched at his chin and looked thoughtful before answering with, “Let me think on it. I am not entirely certain that is the best course of action at the moment.”

The seer eyed him curiously, but let the matter slip. “Right. Now, why are we letting this fantastic feast grow cold before our very ravenous eyes? Let’s tuck in.”

* * *

Later that day, while the seer took a rest after complaining of a headache, Aidan Dismissed all of their belongings and took Slaíne out into the town square. They passed hagglers who called out to them, pushing their wares, some getting in Slaíne’s face and demanding she try on such and such a necklace or brooch.

Aidan smirked. Slaíne pushed on, ignoring the hawkers. “Rude,” she said, far from sounding or looking flattered.

They walked in silence until they neared the edge of town. That was when Aidan turned to Slaíne and said, “Let’s walk a little farther, shall we?”

She raised her eyebrows at the words, frowned, but followed him down a small lane. “What’s the matter?” They came to a standstill next to a small garden, whose keeper watched them with consternation. That would not do.

Aidan gave the man a rueful smile and led Slaíne further still, behind houses, through hanging laundry, until they emerged on a side road. “Forgive me, I wanted to make certain we weren’t being followed.”

“Who’d want to follow us?”

He gave her a pointed look.

“You mean you didn’t want the seer to see where we was going?” She worried her lip for a moment. “Won’t she, you know, know anyway? She’s got that talent, after all.”

He shrugged. “I wanted this at least said without her within hearing distance.” Aidan looked around again before getting to the meat of the matter. “She probably already knows that I do not trust her.”

Slaíne snorted