Free Fires of the Desert (Children of the Desert Book 4) by Leona Wisoker Page A

of booted feet on the stairs behind him came as a mixed relief.
    The front doors had been left ajar. He pushed them the rest of the way open, wincing as an all-too-familiar smell hit him. Tanavin gagged briefly.
    “Damnit,” Eredion said, not needing to take another step to know the answer to his primary question. “He’s gone.”
    Tanavin pushed past and went forward with long, hard strides, shoulders lowered bullishly. Eredion thought about calling him back, then shook his head and followed more slowly, taking in the chaos spread throughout the mansion with a cold eye.
    He found Tanavin standing at the entrance to a hallway as though unable to move another step. The boy’s head was flung back, eyes shut, hands fisted and shaking from strain. Eredion glanced at what lay beyond and swore aloud: a familiar white powder coated seemingly everything, and the wreckage was comprehensive, to say nothing of the blood splashed around like water at a blessing-ceremony.
    Eredion grabbed hold of Tanavin’s taut arm and yanked him bodily away from the scene. The boy offered no resistance, breath wheezing in his chest.
    As they emerged into the cleansing, chill drizzle outside, he seemed to recover some sense. “Where—where—” he stuttered.
    “To get warm. And dry. And a stiff damn drink,” Eredion said brusquely.
    Tanavin bobbed his head and followed without any argument at all.

Chapter Nine
    Sitting still had never been easy for Alyea. At the moment, it proved impossible. She prowled through Eredion’s suite restlessly, at first nervous of encountering Wian; but after repeated calls for her former servant yielded only silence, she moved more confidently through the rooms.
    Eredion seemed inclined to little in the way of decoration. The furniture was basic: chairs and a waist-high table for northern visitors; low tables, kneeling chairs and floor cushions for southerners. Heavy white drapes on the eastern and southern windows blocked the day’s chill and turned the grey light from outside diffuse. Thick carpets in shades of grey and green padded the floor throughout the suite.
    Where Alyea had chosen multiple long couches for her sun room, Eredion had three overstuffed chairs, but only one showed signs of regular use. In his small study, the blackwood desk was heavily worn and scratched, and the sturdy desk chair fabric had begun to fray through, showing tufts of a yellowish stuffing: possibly horsehair or a similar material.
    She sat down after a momentary hesitation and began going through the desk drawers.
    One drawer was securely locked but offered no visible keyhole. She peered at it a while, trying to sort out how to unlatch it, and eventually gave up. The first open drawer proved uninteresting: a collection of pen nibs and shafts, ink jars, parchment, wax, and other writing supplies. The second held an odd collection of pebbles, shells, minor gemstones and bits of damaged jewelry, including one half of a broken amber and silver brooch that looked vaguely familiar for some reason.
    A deeper drawer held two heavy books. Alyea lifted them out and whistled under her breath at the titles: Sessin Book of Blood/Yi Ta Sessin/y. Res i Ninnic and Northern Book of Blood/Yi Ta N’hen/y. Res i Ninnic.
    She opened the Sessin book and flipped through the pages; the genealogy charts and notes quickly became a blur of tightly scripted words and tiny lines. Struck by a sudden curiosity, she turned towards the end and scanned for familiar names. At last she saw them: Eredion S., Nissa S. and Pieas S.
    After a few moments of tracing lines and squinting at connections, she shook her head and put the book carefully away, not having learned anything particularly useful or even new. She’d known that Pieas and Nissa were siblings; now she knew they’d been twins. She’d known Eredion was their uncle; now she knew that Eredion’s older sister, Tashaye, was Lord Antouin Sessin’s second wife, and that if anything happened to Lord