Free The Hidden City by David Eddings

Berit and Khalad in a great deal of danger,’ Sephrenia said critically.
    ‘That’s what we get paid for, little mother,’ Khalad shrugged.
    ‘I’ll watch over them,’ Aphrael assured her sister. She looked critically at Berit. ‘Call me,’ she told him.
    ‘Ma’am?’
    ‘Use the spell, Berit,’ she explained with exaggerated patience. ‘I want to be sure you’re doing it right.’
    ‘Oh.’ Berit carefully enunciated the spell of summoning, his hands moving in the intricate accompanying gestures.
    ‘You mispronounced “Knjernsticon”,’ she corrected him.
    Sephrenia was trying without much success to suppress a laugh.
    ‘What’s so funny?’ Talen asked her.
    ‘Sir Berit’s pronunciations raised some questions about his meaning,’ Stragen explained.
    ‘What did he say?’ Talen asked curiously.
    ‘Just never mind what he said,’ Flute told him primly. ‘We’re not here to repeat off-color jokes about the differences between boys and girls. Practice on that one, Berit. Now try the secret summoning. ’
    ‘What’s that?’ Itagne murmured to Vanion.
    ‘It’s used to pass messages, your Excellency,’ Vanion replied. ‘It summons the awareness of the Child Goddess, but not her presence. We can give her a message to carry to someone else by using that spell.’
    ‘Isn’t that just a little demeaning for the Child Goddess? Do you really make her run errands and carry messages that way?’
    ‘I’m not offended, Itagne.’ Aphrael smiled. ‘After all, we live only to serve those we love, don’t we?’
    Berit’s pronunciation of the second spell raised no objections.
    ‘You’ll probably want to use that one most of the time anyway, Berit,’ Vanion instructed. ‘Krager warned Sparhawk about using magic, so don’t be too obvious about things. If you get any further instructions along the road, make some show of following them, but pass the word on to Aphrael.’
    ‘There’s no real point in decking him out in Sparhawk’s armor now, is there, Lord Vanion?’ Khalad asked.
    ‘Good point,’ Vanion agreed. ‘A mail-shirt should do, Berit. We want them to see your face now.’
    ‘Yes, my Lord.’
    ‘Now you’d better get some sleep,’ Vanion continued. ‘You’ll be starting early tomorrow morning.’
    ‘Not too early, though,’ Caalador amended. ‘We purely wouldn’t want th’ spies t’ oversleep therselfs an’ miss seein’ y’ leave. Gittin’ a new face don’t mean shucks iffn y’ don’t git no chance t’ show it off, now does it?’
    It was chill and damp in the courtyard the following morning, and a thin autumn mist lay over the gleaming city. Sparhawk led Faran out of the stables. ‘Just be careful,’ he cautioned the two young men in mail-shirts and travelers’ cloaks.
    ‘You’ve said that already, my Lord,’ Khalad reminded him. ‘Berit and I aren’t deaf, you know.’
    ‘You’d better forget that name, Khalad,’ Sparhawk said critically. ‘Start thinking of our young friend here as me. A slip of the tongue in the wrong place could give this all away.’
    ‘I’ll keep that in mind.’
    ‘Do you need money?’
    ‘I thought you’d never ask.’
    ‘You’re as bad as your father was.’ Sparhawk pulled a purse from under his belt and handed it to his squire. Then he firmly took Faran by the chin and looked straight into the big roan’s eyes. ‘I want you to go with Berit, Faran,’ he said. ‘Behave exactly as you would if he were me.’
    Faran flicked his ears and looked away.
    ‘Pay attention,’ Sparhawk said sharply. ‘This is important.’
    Faran sighed.
    ‘He knows what you’re talking about, Sparhawk,’ Khalad said. ‘He’s not stupid—just bad-tempered.’
    Sparhawk handed the reins to Berit. Then he remembered something. ‘We’ll need a password,’ he said. ‘The rest of us are going to have different faces, so you won’t recognize us if we have to contact you. Pick something ordinary.’
    They all considered it.
    ‘How