Free Lisa Shearin - Raine Benares 01 by Trouble Found Magic Lost

place between sleep and wake. I saw Garadin’s room from beneath my closed
lashes in half-light and shadow. For the first time tonight I felt safe. The
voice slipped through the walls and windows, up through the floor and down
through the ceiling, enfolding me in warmth and calming my fears. It was a low,
velvety voice, a voice of intimate whispers in the secret hours of night. I
made a small sound and snuggled deeper into the blanket. My heart slowed to
beat in time with the wordless song. My chest grew warm.
    I sat
straight up, my heart pounding. I reached for the amulet. It was warm, even
through my shirt. I listened. No voice, no song, only the sound of my ragged
breathing—and boots on the stairs. They stopped outside the door. The door-knob
turned as my blade cleared its scabbard and my feet hit the floor. I stood, but
stayed in the shadows.
    Someone
pushed the door open, but didn’t step inside. That someone was being cautious.
Since Garadin taught me all there was to know about caution, I was hoping it
was him at the door.
    “Raine?”
The voice was rich and melodious. My godfather’s voice. It wasn’t the voice I
had just heard in my waking dream. I recognized that voice—a certain Guardian
spellsinger was staying up late on account of me. I didn’t think I should be
flattered.
    I let
out the breath I didn’t realize I was holding, and sheathed my blade. “I let
myself in. Hope you don’t mind.”
    “I
never have before.” Garadin came in and tossed his cloak over a chair. “The
city’s a busy place tonight. To which catastrophe do I owe this pleasure?”
    “Can’t
I just want to visit?”
    My
godfather was tall and distinguished looking, his eyes intense blue, his short
hair ginger, and his beard and mustache immaculately trimmed. That was where
immaculate ended. His dark homespun robes swept in virtual tatters behind him.
Garadin dressed for himself and comfort, and that was all.
    “You
could, but not at this hour,” he said. “If you’re out this late, the reason’s
usually armed and annoyed with you.” He paused. “Are they?”
    I
chose not to answer that.
    An
equally tall and lanky figure came in behind Garadin, and pushed the hood of
his cloak back to reveal a familiar mop of dark curls framing a boyishly
handsome face that’d be turning female heads in a few years, if it wasn’t
already. Piaras. Now that was unsettling. It wasn’t odd that my landlady’s
grandson was with Garadin. Piaras Rivalin was also Garadin’s student. But the
young elf had just turned seventeen, and Tarsilia had set a strict midnight
curfew for him. I didn’t think pub-crawling with my godfather into the wee
hours qualified as an approved field trip.
    Piaras
was a spellsinger-in-training, so puberty had been interesting at our house. I
say ours because when you live in the upstairs apartment, you tend to hear and
experience everything that goes on in the house anyway. As a boy, Piaras had
shown signs of talent, but once adolescence set in, big feet weren’t the only
things tripping him up. And all hell broke loose, magically speaking, when his
voice changed. Garadin stepped in at that point and promptly earned the
unending gratitude of the entire neighborhood.
    For
me, he was just the little brother I’d always wanted.
    “Speaking
of someone up past their bedtime,” I said. I looked from Garadin to Piaras. “Is
there something I should know?”
    Piaras
looked to Garadin, and Garadin didn’t answer immediately. He looked at the
empty plate on the table. There were a few crumbs left. “Sorry I didn’t have
anything better to offer, though you seem to have done well enough for
yourself. Considering the kind of night you must have had, I’d imagine you were
hungry.”
    Nigel’s
house crawling with goblins and Simon Stocken’s warehouse burning to the ground
must have been public knowledge by now, but not the fact that I was involved.
Or maybe Garadin just assumed I was involved. Neither assumption was