Echoes Read Online Free PDF Page A

the worst that could happen?
    She reached up to knock, but then reconsidered, and opened the door just wide enough to slip inside. Dearra was sitting in a chair in front of the fire, exactly the same as she had done for the two weeks prior, at least that’s what people had said. She stared, without blinking, at the fire in the grate. Zusia cleared her throat so as to not startle Dearra, and when that didn’t work, she coughed a little, but there was no response.
    Zusia shrugged, and walked over to the heavy, wooden chair, adjacent to Dearra’s. She scooped up the clothing that was on the chair and dumped them in a heap along one wall, before dragging the chair so that it was directly between Dearra and the fire. She sat down and faced the strange woman before her. And still there was no response.
    “You sick or something?” Zusia asked, but Dearra said nothing. “Everyone’s waiting for you, you know. What’s the matter with you? Is it because your father’s dead?”
    Dearra flinched a little and frowned, but she did not answer her.
    “That’s it, isn’t it? So, he’s dead. Lots more fathers are going to be dead if you don’t get yourself together. Lots more children, too. What do you care, though? It’s good that you don’t care, actually. That way, when they kill Phillip, you can just sit here in a big pile of nothing and not feel anything.”
    “Shut up, Zusia,” Dearra croaked.
    “She speaks! It’s a miracle! No, I don’t think I will shut up. I found a home here, and I would like to keep it. You have everything, and you are just going to throw it away.”
    “Please leave.” Dearra’s voice came out in a hoarse whisper. She had gone too long without speaking, and there was no longer any force to her words.
    “Or what? You’ll beat me? I’ve been beaten before. You don’t scare me. So you don’t care what happens to your friends and family. Phillip dead, Darius dead, Carly dead—well, they probably won’t kill Carly. Too much power, but they’ll use her. Maybe they’ll keep that red-headed one alive to make her do what they want.”
    “What do you want me to do? I don’t have anything left to give.” Dearra’s eyes were misty when she met Zusia’s gaze.
    “You’re pathetic! You’re supposed to be this great warrior. I’ve seen jirds with more fight than you have.”
    “What in Cyrus’s name is a jird?” Dearra asked.
    “A small mouse that lives in the Breken desert. It’s not large enough to make a meal of, but a bunch of them can tide you over if you’re stuck in the desert with nothing else to eat.”
    “A mouse? You think I am a mouse?”
    “No, I think you are less than a mouse. When in danger, a mouse will at least bite. You just sit there doing nothin’. If you won’t fight, at least give your sword to someone who will use it. The rest of us still want to live.” She paused, sizing Dearra up. “Maybe I will just take it. I don’t know how to use it, but I can learn, and I would be more use than you, at least.”
    “ You will take it? That would be worth seeing. Go right ahead and try,” Dearra said, waving her hand at the bed where Brin lay.
    Zusia climbed off the chair and strode toward the bed. She had never lifted a sword in her life. To do so, and be caught, would have meant a speedy death, but she would be damned if she would let the challenge go unanswered.
    Dearra had resumed her examination of the flames, waiting for the yelp of pain that would soon follow, and hopefully end the annoying child’s presence in her room. She heard the sword being pulled free of the scabbard, and the dull thud as the tip of the heavy blade hit the floor. Dearra turned in her chair to see Zuzu holding the sword, both hands wrapped awkwardly around the hilt, not quite able to lift it. Whatever was happening, it wasn’t what Dearra had expected. Brin should be glowing red. He’d never tolerated any touch but hers before, except in very rare situations.
    Brin, what are you