Free The Man In The Wind by Sorenna Wise Page B

shoulder, Iris motioned to Rai, and he ducked carefully in behind her.
           “Sit there,” she told him, giving his hair an affectionate caress. Once again, he sat by her feet. Iris turned to the woman and her husband and smiled. “I can’t thank you enough. I was beginning to worry. Sometimes people find him so intimidating that they just won’t get anywhere near him.”
           “Well, you know how judgmental the public can be. He looks perfectly harmless. It’s always the tall, silent ones who have it the worst, isn’t it?” The woman gave Rai a simpering beam.
           Oh my God, thought Iris. Is she flirting with him? She glanced at Rai, rubbing his back comfortingly. I hope he knows how sorry I am. In an effort to change the subject, she turned her attention to the husband, whose heavy salt and pepper mustache concealed a mouth that looked to be thin with displeasure. He hadn’t said anything and didn’t even appear to know they were there. “I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure,” she prompted.
           “Oh, this is just my husband.” The woman said it in the same manner one would use to discuss a piece of furniture. “Don’t pay him any mind. He’s not a good traveler.” She paused. “Where exactly are you headed, dear? I do hope your father will be there to receive you.”
           “You can drop us off at the city station,” said Iris. “That’s generally where he picks me up.”
           “I see. Is he in the fur business?” A keen light in her hostess’ eye suggested that that was her industry as well. Iris did not take the bait.
           “No, no, he’s just a sport hunter. He likes challenging terrain, as he calls it. I really don’t know what he does with the pelts.” The trick was to appear as airheaded and ignorant as possible so that this woman would think she was just a silly girl and wouldn’t ask her too many probing questions. She was satisfied when the beatific smile returned to the woman’s face. It was working like a charm.
           Rai was not listening to the idle conversation; he was concerned that if he paid too much attention, he would undermine Iris’ story. It was a stretch to say he appreciated the role he had to play, but in her defense, she hadn’t had much leeway. How else was she to explain the presence of a haggard, dirty man? So he stayed quiet, mirroring the blank expression of the husband. Iris’ hand kneaded soft furrows in his shoulder as the carriage bumped along over the frozen path. If he turned his head, he could kiss her fingers. He wanted to, but he didn’t.
           For the first time, he was actually thinking that he might get out.
     
           When the carriage halted at the entrance to the transit station at Olyn, the largest city in Volikar, Iris disembarked quickly, leading Rai by the arm. After the discussion of her father’s business, the last leg of the ride had been in near-total silence, and she was worried that the woman who’d stopped for them was beginning to grow leery of her new passengers. But the lady waved, a delicate flourish of her furred fingers. “Good luck to you!” she said.
           “Thank you very, very much!” Then, without further ado, Iris and Rai hurried into the building.
           The first thing he said to her was, “Manservant?” She stifled a giggle.
           “Hush. It did the job. Now come this way. We’re going to dress you before we go any further.”
     
    ---
     
           The skies above Olyn buzzed with small, fly-like aircraft sent on order of the king. Each carried a slew of parcels in a hatch on its belly which was controlled by a switch inside the cockpit. The instructions were simple: Release the notices over the city, making sure to cover as much ground as possible. Finding the royal necromancer was to be considered a public service.
           Cruising low above the squat, bare buildings, the pilot of