Lost Covenant: A Widdershins Adventure Read Online Free PDF Page B

monk's eyes, she guessed his journey across the street, driven by her hands and her fury, hadn't been pleasant.
    “I'm sorry. I…” She wanted to pretend the sudden rush of shame, the heat in her cheeks that even the breeze couldn't cool, was more of her divine companion's doing. Wanted to, but couldn't; she knew better.
    “I'm sorry, Maurice.” And then, more softly, “And you, too.
    “This…” she continued, voice slightly raised once more. “This isn't…I just…Please don't ask me about this anymore. I can't help you. I can't work with your archbishop. I can't . I—”
    The back of her neck twitched, as if her skin had just been crawled over by a bumblebee in satin socks. Her hackles rose, and she didn't so much hear a call of warning as abruptly discover that she, for some reason, was expecting to hear one.
    One of Olgun's “cries,” that, one she'd experienced enough times to know precisely what it meant.
    “Who?” she demanded, already spinning away from the startled figure half-slumped against the wall. Her eyes scanned the crowd—smaller now even than it had been, as many had fled when it appeared she was assaulting her companion. Those who remained all stared at her as intently as she did them, clearly wondering if she was a madwoman. It should have been impossible to pick one individual from the throng, one man watching her with a very different intent, and had she been alone, it would have been. With Olgun guiding her eyes, however, she noted the faint narrowing of his own; the posture minutely, invisibly tensed; the way he examined her, knowing, studying, rather than wondering.
    And now she couldn't help but wonder, herself. Had she seen him many minutes ago, loitering about when she left the cemetery? She'd hardly been paying attention, couldn't say for certain, but she was fairly sure she had.
    “Maurice?” She muttered from the side of her mouth, allowing her attention to wander past the man she'd pinpointed. “Left side of the street. Blue-and-yellow coat, tarnished buckles on his boots, hair that looks like cheap twine.”
    Whatever else he might think of her at the moment, the monk clearly recognized the importance of her tone. “He looks vaguely familiar. I think…”
    “Think faster, yes?”
    “I think he's one of the grief-stricken children of Lord Suspicious Character we talked about.”
    Shins nodded, turning slowly back toward her quarry—and thennot so slowly, when the man abruptly bolted, tearing back down the road as though he was late for his mother-in-law's funeral. Many of those nearby turned to watch him go; the others were still fixated on Widdershins herself.
    She'd been so cautious! What had tipped him…?
    Oh.
    The young woman and her god both rolled their eyes at Maurice (or Olgun did, at least, the spiritual equivalent), who had been staring openly at the fellow he'd been asked to examine, and then they swiftly leapt to pursue, leaving their less savvy companion behind.
    The befuddled citizens of Lourveaux all but fell from her path as she neared, clearly willing to let the crazy lady pass unmolested. The notion that, so far as they were concerned, she had just attacked one innocent passerby for no good reason and then launched herself after a second like a wolf made of springs only barely flitted across her mind before she cast it aside as unnecessary weight.
    It would have been so easy, in Davillon. She could have taken to the rooftops, knowing with absolute certainty where she could intercept him based on which corners he turned; could have darted through courtyards between buildings, or even some of the buildings themselves, and known precisely where she'd emerge; might very well even have anticipated his final destination, based on his general direction. She could have kept up until he slowed, utterly undetectable, and then tailed him until she knew who'd sent him, or could confront him at a site of her own choosing.
    In Davillon.
    In Lourveaux, she knew