Free Blood Red (9781101637890) by Mercedes Lackey Page B

particular piece of manual labor wishing to watch someone
else
do it.
    â€œWhat can I do for you, sir?” she asked politely. She was not particularly concerned for her safety; invoking lightning was not a Water ability. And given that he was, by her standards, a distinctly
weedy
young man, she had no doubt she could best him in a direct confrontation. His own sheer astonishment that she could and would deliver a good punch to the chin would allow her to get back to the safety of the parlor car before he recovered.
    â€œIt is what I can do for you, Earth Master,” he said, looking as if he was trying very hard to be brave. “That tree coming down was no accident. It was meant to stop me.”
    She blinked at him. “And whoever it was needed to stop you so badly he stopped an entire train?”
    The young man swallowed hard. “I was sent to Vienna to discover, if I could, the identity of an Air Master that had gone to the bad. I did so—but in the process, I myself was discovered. I fled on this train before I could send a telegram to the Master of the Munich Lodge, Graf von Stahldorf. I thought I had escaped, but it is clear the man intends to stop me before I can reveal his identity, and yes, he was fully prepared to stop an entire train, and perhaps even slay innocents in the process. I must tell—”
    Evidently his intention was to tell her the man’s name. She had a much better idea. “Say no more,” she said firmly, and let her sense of the Earth find the nearest game trail. “Such a fiend is too dangerous to be left at large. We must deal with this now.”
    â€œBut dear lady—” he began, startled. This, clearly was not what he expected to hear from her.
    â€œPray do not interrupt me,” she snapped. “I am a Hunt Master of the Schwarzwald. I know what I am doing. I need but a moment. Follow me.”
    With that, she strode purposefully to the door of the parlor car. “Wait here,” she ordered him, and mounted up into the car. Once there, she secured her portmanteau from the overhead rack—or rather, the steward hastened to get it down for her—and she retired with it to the bathroom.
    Knowing that her petticoat and dress would be freshened by the maids on the sleeper trains, she had secured most of the useful objects she usually wore inside the hidden compartment at the bottom of the bag. She extracted them now, distributed them about her person where she could reach them despite her gown, and then returned the portmanteau to the rack. Or rather, allowed the steward to do so.
    â€œWe are likely to be here for much longer than two more hours,” she told him, quietly. “If I sit here listening to the gentlemen bluster and the ladies fuss like a coop full of hens, I shall be strongly tempted to scream. I shall take another brief walk.”
    When the steward looked aghast, she added, “I am accustomed to riding hunters in the Schwarzwald for at least three hours daily. An hour walking will do me no harm.”
    At that, he looked both mollified and impressed. She knew that he assumed, of course, that if she was riding hunters, she must be very wealthy, and was riding them all over some vast estate. Once again, she spoke pure truth, as a magician must adhere to; she
did
ride hunters all over the forest, often for far longer than three hours at a time. It was not her fault he made some other inference from her words.
    The steward made no other effort to prevent her from descending from the carriage. She walked very close to the car to prevent him from seeing she was with a gentleman—and the gentleman himself did the same. Only when they reached the baggage car did he come up beside her. “Your pardon, Hunt Master, but what do you intend to do? This man may be Air, which might seem insignificant to you, but he is immensely powerful. If he had not been—”
    She interrupted him impatiently. “If he had