Thirteen Orphans (52 page)

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Authors: Jane Lindskold

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BOOK: Thirteen Orphans
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Brenda had dithered, partly because she couldn’t help wanting to look good in front of Flying Claw. Also, she didn’t know what color she should wear, since she wasn’t really the Rat. Pearl had dismissed her qualms with an imperious sniff.
“They see you as one of us, and I think you are the one who makes Righteous Drum the most nervous. Your abilities are unpredictable. He’d probably back off if you didn’t agree to take part.”
So in the end, Brenda had worn a black skirt cut above her knees. With it she wore the red and gold brocade top she’d worn the night she and Dad had gone to meet Riprap that first time. Her now ruined jacket had protected the delicate fabric when she’d dived onto the garage floor.
Like me, like all of us, it’s a survivor.
They signed their treaty out under the ramada. The air was fresh but still, as if the winds knew not to ruffle the important pieces of paper.
And maybe they do,
Brenda thought as she wrote her name, hearing Treaty thrumming warning against taking this great step lightly. Out in the streets, firecrackers snapped and popped counterpoint.
Pearl and Des had made certain in advance that appropriate refreshments were ready, for in the Lands as in the China that had given them birth, food was an important part of all ceremonies.
Brenda hurried inside to get the first of the trays while the scrolls were being placed in their tubes. When she heard the kitchen door open, Brenda thought the new arrival was Riprap. She turned, ready to ask him if he’d carry out the heavier tray.
Flying Claw stood before her, resplendent in his tiger robes, balanced easily against the weight of the sword at his side. Brenda’s breath caught in her throat, for he was as beautiful as he had been that first time she had seen him, a lifetime ago in that anonymous LoDo parking garage.
“We are friends now,” Flying Claw said in English. “That’s what the paper we signed says.”
Brenda nodded, but for a moment she didn’t trust herself to speak. Then she replied so softly that she wondered if Flying Claw would hear, “Yes. I guess we are, but what does that mean?”
“I wish I knew,” Flying Claw said, reaching to take the heavier tray and speaking back at her over his shoulder. “With all my heart and soul, I sincerely wish I knew.”

 

Through Wolf’s Eyes
Wolf’s Head, Wolf’s Heart
The Dragon of Despair
Wolf Captured
Wolf Hunting
Wolf’s Blood
The Buried Pyramid
Child of a Rainless Year
Thirteen Orphans
Nine Gates

 

“Thrilling. The intriguing plot makes for a quick and enjoyable read.”
—Publishers Weekly
on
Wolf Hunting
 
“Lindskold is a writer with strong world-building skills and a knack for intricate yet comprehensible plots.”
—
Romantic Times BOOKreviews
 
“The author has created a gifted and resourceful heroine. Innovative and imaginative.”
—
Library Journal
on
Through Wolf’s Eyes
 
“Highly enjoyable. Lindskold’s wild and wonderful magic thrives in this volume.”
—
Booklist
on
Wolf’s Head, Wolf’s Heart
 
“Exhilarating. Exciting.”
—
Publishers Weekly
(starred review) on
Wolf Captured
 
“Compelling reading. Intricately plotted and written, Lindskold’s latest creates an utterly fascinating world that readers can thoroughly lose themselves in.”
—
Romantic Times BOOKreviews
on
Wolf Captured

 

Reminiscent of the works of Charles de Lint, Mercedes Lackey, Jim Butcher, and Alice Hoffman,
Thirteen Orphans
is the first volume of a brilliant new contemporary fantasy series by bestselling, critically acclaimed author Jane Lindskold.

 

Turn the page for a preview of
JANE LINDSKOLD
Available August 2009
A TOR HARDCOVER
ISBN 978-0-7653-1701-8
Copyright © 2009 by Jane Lindskold
From Chapter 4
Honey Dream sat dutifully listening as Righteous Drum and Des Lee—her elders, but not her betters, she kept reminding herself—dismissed the amulets they had captured along with their four prisoners as a means of returning to the Lands.
“It’s pretty obvious,” Des said, “that wherever the recall takes them it won’t be somewhere we’d be particularly welcome.”
“Or rather,” Righteous Drum said, “we would be very welcome—but I fear that the welcome of people who came after me with spells prepared to disable me is not a welcome I care to accept.”
They talked for a while about who their enemies might be. Honey Dream had heard much of it before within the privacy of their own circle.
Des Lee seemed to have an infinite hunger for the history of the Lands and the various rivalries and coups that had colored its history. Much of it was new to him, but very familiar to Honey Dream and as her father lectured on, Honey Dream almost couldn’t blame Flying Claw for volunteering to babysit in order to get out of it.
Almost.
Especially since Honey Dream couldn’t help but suspect that Flying Claw’s desire to babysit had nothing to do with any lingering fondness for that annoying little brat, Lani.
Honey Dream had asked Flying Claw that morning while they were still at the mansion if he—strong, young Tiger that he was—didn’t find it insulting that he should be set to child-minding. He was dining on bacon and fried eggs, a meal for which he’d acquired a fondness during his imprisonment.
Flying Claw had considered, a piece of bacon halfway to those lips whose touch she remembered in exquisite detail. “I wouldn’t be insulted if I was asked to guard a lesser approach to a stronghold, if that was the best place I could serve my general. This is much the same. Nissa must be free to learn her skills, otherwise she will be of little help to us. She cannot learn with the babe nagging after her. I am a novelty. Lani will behave for me as she will not for others.”
Honey Dream had to agree—even if grudgingly—that Nissa was certainly attending to her studies. The attack had created an acute urgency among the three apprentices, among them all, if Honey Dream was honest with herself—an urgency that had not existed when they had signed their treaty and had believed they had a month at minimum to plan.
That had been on July fourth. July fifth had been spent on various tasks, including moving the four from the Lands into their current residence. July sixth had brought the attack. On the seventh, Pearl Bright and Albert Yu had left to brief their associates. Nissa, Brenda, and Riprap had turned to their studies with the avidity of the truly terrified.
That was where the three apprentices were now, closeted with Waking Lizard, who was attempting to explain the complexities of focusing one’s ch’i under less than ideal circumstances.
Yes. Honey Dream wanted to believe Flying Claw’s explanation, but she didn’t. She thought Flying Claw’s willingness to babysit arose from a hope that at some point Lani would insist on seeing her mother, and then he would have an excuse to see that horrible Ratling, Brenda Morris.
Brenda Morris. That woman—girl, really, for all she was only a few years younger than Honey Dream herself—was an enigma, a horrible puzzle. There was ample evidence that Brenda had done things she should not have been able to do. Brenda’s ability to work magic wasn’t the puzzle—even in the Lands, there were hedge wizards and wise women, minor sorcerers of all sorts. The same appeared to be true here in the Land of the Burning.
Very well. That Brenda Morris might have some native magical talent unconnected to the Branches, Honey Dream could accept. What plagued Honey Dream was the mystery of how Brenda had managed to manifest even a very little Rat.
Flying Claw had told them about this occurrence the morning after Honey Dream had rescued him from his foul captivity.
“There is something I must tell you about,” he had said, his voice tight with urgency, “something that occurred on the night I went to gather the Rat from Gaheris Morris.”
Flying Claw had paused, and they had indicated that they remembered, although this event was not something either Honey Dream or her father was likely to have forgotten. That night had been the beginning of the end of all their plans, if they had but known the truth at the time.
Flying Claw went on. “I had expected Gaheris to be able to see me. We have never had a great deal of success in shielding ourselves from others who are affiliated with one of the Earthly Branches. I was startled when the man with Gaheris also saw me—I had not yet scouted the Dog—but I felt the Dog’s paw on him and immediately knew why. But Brenda saw me as well, clearly enough that she attempted to distract me.”
Did Flying Claw look a little embarrassed when he said that last? Honey Dream wondered. What had the tart done? Pulled down her blouse or tried to kiss him? Just the thought of it made her burn with contained fury.
“In the hours since my memory returned to me,” Flying Claw had said, “I’ve puzzled over why Brenda should have been able to see me. Then I recalled something I overheard, the day after Pearl’s house was brought to the attention of the Three-Legged Toad. I heard Des and Pearl discussing quite excitedly how Brenda had manifested what they called ‘a little rat.’
“Apparently, this is as unheard of for them as it would be for us. That ability seems to grant Brenda powers like, but not like, those of an Earthly Branch.”
What plagued Honey Dream even more than that Brenda Morris should be in the least ways anomalous was that the anomaly didn’t seem to bother anyone else. Honey Dream had tried to bring the matter up with her father over the days they worked out the details of the treaty of alliance.
Righteous Drum had dismissed the matter with a careless wave of his hand. “No doubt there was a flaw in the spell that Flying Claw used to entrap Gaheris Morris. Perhaps a signal was sent that gave the Rat the momentary thought that he was dead. At that instant the most minor fragment of Ratness could have slid from Gaheris to his daughter.”
Honey Dream didn’t like that explanation. None of the other capture spells had malfunctioned in that way. Why should this one have done so? She knew her father suspected that Flying Claw had been lax in some way. Righteous Drum did not especially care for Flying Claw—surely a father’s petty jealousy, for until Flying Claw had entered their circle of associates, Honey Dream had honored no man other than her father.
When Righteous Drum had refused to take her warnings seriously, Honey Dream had tried to talk to Waking Lizard. That annoying old man had only laughed and waggled his beard at her.
“Envious, Snake of my heart? Beware strong emotions. They cloud the judgment.”
When she had protested that there was nothing in Brenda Morris for Honey Dream to envy, Waking Lizard had laughed even harder.
Honey Dream had turned on her heel and stalked away. After all, why should she care about a cowardly Monkey’s opinion? Waking Lizard only knew Brenda Morris as one of those who had saved him when he had fled to this world and collapsed covered in cuts and bruises. No doubt gratitude clouded his judgment—so who was
he
to talk about taking care to guard against strong emotions?
Honey Dream hadn’t tried to discuss the matter with Flying Claw. He still hadn’t forgiven her for expecting him to accede to her plan to retake the Rat’s memory from Brenda Morris. He seemed to feel it was a slight on his honor.
Demons take his honor! What sort of honor could a babysitter claim?
Abandoned by her allies, her wisdom eschewed—even though the Snake was only second to the Dragon in offering wise counsel—Honey Dream resolved that she would solve the Brenda Morris puzzle herself.
She liked the idea. Once she’d shown that Brenda Morris was in some way corrupt, the girl would be sent away.
Yes. Honey Dream smiled softly to herself. Let the others fuss over history. She would act as a Snake should and set her powers to root out that nasty sneaking little Ratling.

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