Brood of Bones Read Online Free PDF Page B

and frowned. “I know, I know. They slurp souls or some such. Found a girl in a gutter once. Thought she was sleeping drunk and had gone and ruined her dress. Slapped her, and she was cold as used bathwater.”
    “Maid Janny, every word you speak further elucidates your ignorance. Feasters do not imbibe souls. Their magic drains power from fear.”
    “Don’t care what all they eat, if it comes from me. Breastfeeding was bad enough.”
    “It is an honor of motherhood.”
    She fretted in her seat, knuckling her chin. “We shouldn’t be out and about at night. We shouldn’t, we shouldn’t.”
    “You should have more confidence in Spellsword Deepmand,” I said. “He is trained to defeat Feasters, and I suspect Morimound to have the second least incidence of them of all the major cities.”
    “Easy for you to be brave. A Feaster would go hungry rather than listen to you lecture about its dining etiquette.”
    I did not care for Maid Janny in the least. Neither did I wish to sympathize with the person who by necessity scrounged underneath my gowns to remove used chamber pots.
    She peered out at the deserted and dark streets as they whisked past. “The men in robes said something about gods, but how do they know the women didn’t all have a good tumble in the loft?”
    “Exactly what are you implying about the strong-fibered women of Morimound?”
    “That they had some belly on belly. They sweet-dreamed. Aired the mattress. Paid the lord.”
    “Maid Janny!”
    “Oiled the sword. Danced the sheets. Husked the corn.”
    “Did you neglect to hear the Lustrous Priest pronounce those women virgins?”
    “Poor girls. They missed the best part of having a baby.”
    “You refer to no more than a means to an end,” I said. “Maid Janny, it is well that you are unattractive, or you would be entirely insufferable.”
    “It is well you’re rich. Or so would you.”
    Janny’s impertinence gave me an excuse to contemplate her dismissal. My finger would point out from the carriage, and she would leave, too surprised for a retort.
    With my next breath, I remembered her helping me on my first days in the Academy. She had guided me up walls along gravity-defying paths, huffing as she did from the weight of the child she carried. Maid Janny had been young then and I younger still, a girl lost and frightened in an upside-down world.
    No, I would sooner do without one of my hands than part with Maid Janny, although I would never admit it to her. To deceive her into thinking I cared nothing for her words, I engaged in sleep.
    As jewels meandered overhead in my laboratory, I estimated fifteen more minutes would elapse before Spellsword Deepmand procured the key from the jailor then returned to the execution cage to free Sri the Once Flawless.
    Janny’s uncouth tongue reminded me of the admonishment of the Fate Weaver’s priest: The pregnancies might not be divine in origin.
    A physical explanation seemed less than imaginable. I trusted Morimound women to know whether or not they were virgins, and none of their faces showed an excess of guilt when the priest proclaimed the girls as chaste. The pregnancies of elders such as Sri the Once Flawless rendered a theory of normal conception even more dubious. If geriatric fertility was widespread then I could rule out all means less than supernatural.
    I pondered in mid air at the center of the circular room, my gowns drifting around me. To prevent them from enveloping me entirely in a satin cocoon, I batted them back from my face as if parting curtains. I also dimmed the jewel lights, with a thought, for an environment more conducive to meditation.
    For the first time, I regretted learning no more than a general education in the less proper magics. I knew of none whose primary or even tertiary effects could cause anything resembling a pregnancy. The intricacy of spellcraft involved would require proximity of the practitioner to the woman, in all probability necessitating physical touch