A Distant Magic Read Online Free PDF Page B

a week before they reached the coast. Adia prayed over his thin body, asking the ancestors to take special care of his spirit because he was only small. Then a slaver jerked her to her feet, and she had to start marching again.
    But she would not die, no, not her. Adia of the Iske would survive, and someday she would find a way to make the slavers pay.

Chapter

FIVE
    T he
Mercury
's leisurely progress through the crowded harbor at Marseilles gave Jean ample time to go mad with excitement. She managed to control herself enough that she didn't jump up and down, but she and Annie hung over the railing by the bow, drinking in the sights and smells of France.
    "They'll never believe this back in Dunrath," Annie said happily.
"I'll be telling tales to my grandchildren about my trip to Marseilles."
    "So will I," Jean said, though she was less certain about grandchildren in her case.
    The sun reflected brilliantly from the sea, and even with her broad-brimmed hat, she had to use her hand to shade her eyes as she studied the people waiting on the shore. Had the schooner been identified early enough so that her friends would be waiting?
    "Try this, Miss Macrae." Captain Gordon appeared and handed her his spyglass.
"Perhaps you'll be able to see your friends."
    "Thank you." Jean put the spyglass to her right eye and slowly scanned the waterfront.
"There they are!"
    The thralls had changed so much that she might have missed the group if not for the tall, dark presence of Moses Fontaine. With skin like ebony and a gentleman's elegance, his presence and his African heritage made him unmistakable.
    Holding his arm was his blond bride-to-be, Lily Winters. She had been frail to the point of collapse when she and her friends had been freed from thralldom. Now she was graceful and healthy, with an elegance to match that of Moses. Born the daughter of a village apothecary, now she was every inch a lady.
    Moving about more restlessly were Jemmy and Breeda, the other betrothed couple. Of the four thralls, Jemmy had been in the direst straits. He had been a chimney sweep, a starved and pallid boy who looked unlikely to survive to adulthood. Now he was fit and strong and tanned. Never having had a surname, he'd decided to call himself James King once he gained his freedom.
"Jemmy" to his friends.
    Last was Bridget O'Malley, the Irish serving girl whose carrot-red hair rivaled Jean's bright locks. After being freed, Breeda's greatest ambition had been to learn how to read and write. Jean had taught her and Jemmy, and the letters they'd written over the years were a testament to how well the two had learned. Jean thought the pair were living proof that breeding meant much less than opportunity. Breeda and Jemmy had always had intelligence. Once they were freed and given the chance to grow, that potential had blossomed.
    "Would you like to look?" She passed the spyglass to Annie.
    "I never knew there were so many kinds of people in the world!" her companion exclaimed as she examined the port.
"Black skin, white, brown, and every shade between. And the way they dress! It's
not like Dunrath, Miss Jean."
    "Indeed, it's not." Jean studied the buildings and hills around the harbor hungrily, thinking that an advantage of being a maiden aunt was the freedom to travel. She took off her bonnet and waved, at the same time trying to send a mental message to her friends. Either the hat or the mind touch worked, because Breeda saw her and waved excitedly, quickly followed by the others.
    Docking seemed to take forever, but soon enough Jean was able to skip down the gangplank to the shore while Annie stayed behind to supervise removal of their baggage. Breeda reached Jean first and they hugged, laughing and crying at once. The circumstances under which they'd met had created a bond that went deep. As she embraced Lily, Jean said,
"You all look wonderful! Marseilles has been good to you."
    "Marseilles and Moses's family." An orphan when she was enthralled,