Cat's Quill Read Online Free PDF Page A

idea what you're talking about," Tomas said very calmly. "Cathal borrowed a book from me, and I need to find him so that he can return it." His stomach rumbled, and Donovan smirked.
    "It's important to keep your energy levels up for the writing." Donovan took the bacon off the heat, added it to the bread, slapped another slice on top, and then repeated the action. "Don't worry; this is the lean bacon you Brits like, not the streaky kind I'd cook if Heidi would let me get away with it. Besides, she'd take a piece out of my ass if I didn't feed you right."
    Tomas opened his mouth, his ability to find a sarcastic comment to suit the occasion deserting him completely. "Thank you," he said lamely.
    "You're welcome." Donovan wrapped the sandwiches in the greaseproof paper and filled the Thermos with hot coffee, adding milk and sugar. He put them down in front of Tomas. "The offer is still there for the beer sometime if you want to talk. You're still paying though."
    "I'll think about it," Tomas said, with no intention of doing anything of the sort. He had nothing to talk about and better things to do with his time.
    "You do that," Donovan replied, already turning his back on Tomas to start clearing the breakfast dishes. "Say hello to this Cathal guy and invite him over some time. I like to know my neighbors, even the ones who don't bother to introduce themselves or take up the offer of a beer." He retrieved the washing-up detergent from the window ledge and began filling the sink with hot water, still not bothering to turn around. "See you at dinner, Tomas. I'm guessing you won't be in for lunch. Heidi usually leaves sandwiches in a plastic container in the fridge if you get hungry. Help yourself."
    Tomas dropped his mug into the soapy water on his way past, pausing to pick up his bag. Glancing at Donovan's back, he shrugged and walked out of the kitchen, not sure how to answer. It was easier not to bother.
    Walking briskly to the front door, he opened it and stepped outside. The radio was already blaring from the kitchen, the volume loud enough to be annoying, and a stark contrast to the peace and quiet that beckoned. Shoving the sandwiches into his pack and holding the Thermos under one arm, Tomas closed the door behind him, focusing on what might lie ahead for the day rather than on what he had just left behind.
    * * * *
     
    The sun was out, yet the air was crisp and the breeze had a bite to it. Tomas was glad he had worn his jumper, although he had left his jacket hanging on the back of the door in his room. Something moved to his right, and he turned, eyes scanning his surroundings for any signs of life. He still couldn't believe how he had missed the hedge the day before; it outlined the perimeter of the field except for the gaps in the middle of each of the four sides to allow access. His mind must have been focused on something else.
    A loud meow interrupted his thoughts, and Tomas groaned. "No, you don't," he muttered, reaching up to retrieve Blackthorn just as she leapt off the top of the hedge toward his head. She stared at him and meowed again, struggling to free herself. He bent and placed her on the ground. Immediately she rubbed around his ankles and looked up at him. "Okay, you can stay," he told her, wondering why the hell he was talking to a cat, especially one who would not listen. Cats were like people in that regard at least, although he always suspected they understood much more than they were given credit for.
    If cats could look smug, this one certainly gave a good approximation of it. Tomas wondered why she had attached herself to him. He was no one special and wasn't even the human who fed her. Adjusting his messenger bag over his shoulder, he began walking across the field, keeping his pace slow so as not to appear to be in a hurry. Tomas preferred to take things leisurely, everything in its time; it was part of the casual, disinterested demeanor he projected to the rest of the world.
    Once past the