Magic Casement Read Online Free PDF Page A

stranger-Sagorn?-sighed. “I
know whom you do not trust, and you are right. And you have not told your
daughter?”
    “Heavens,
no! She is only a child. She couldn’t handle that!” Handle what?
Inos wanted to stamp her foot with frustration, but of course she was hardly
daring to breathe, let alone stamp.
    “But
you will? “ Another pause.
    “I
don’t know,” her father said softly. “If... if she is older
when... or maybe not at all.”
    “You
must! “ The stranger spoke in a tone that no one used to a king. “You
must not let it be lost!” His voice reverberated in the empty room.
    “Must?”
    Inos
could guess at her father’s mocking, quizzical expression.
    “Yes,
must! It is too precious... and it is Krasnegar’s only hope for survival.
You know that.”
    “It
would also be her greatest danger.”
    “Yes,
that is true,” the stranger admitted. “But the advantages of having
it outweigh the disadvantages, do they not?” His voice became diffident,
almost pleading. “You know that! You... you could not trust me with it?
If I promised that later I would tell her?”
    She
heard her father’s dry chuckle. He had come closer. She must be prepared
to run.
    “No,
Sagorn. For her sake. I trust you, friend, but not... certain others.”
    The
other man sighed. “No, certainly not Darad. Never trust him. Or Andor. “
    “You
keep them away, both of them!” That was a royal command.
    “Yes,
I will. And so will Jalon. “
    The
stranger’s voice was suddenly very close. Inos wheeled around and started
down the stairs as fast as she could safely and silently go. Jalon? The
minstrel? She was sure that was the name she had just heard. What had he to do
with this? And who was this Sagorn?
    Then--
    Dust!
With horror she saw her own footsteps below her, mingled with those of her
father and his visitor, giveaway marks on the deposits of years. Coming up, she
had not noticed them, but going down they were obvious, even in the dim glow
coming through the grimy panes. Panic! They would know that she, or at least
someone, had been listening.
    At
the bottom she stumbled against the heavy door and the rusted old hinges
creaked horribly. She squeezed through the opening, dashed across her father’s
bedroom, and was plunging down the next stairs when she heard a shout behind
her and then a clatter of boots.
    It
was a race, then. She must escape from the tower and, certainly, she must hide
her precious packet of silk until the storm blew itself out.
    She
reached the dressing room, skidded on a rug in the middle of it, regained her
balance, dashed down the next flight, and burst into the withdrawing room, into
an astonished collection of six matronly ladies just sitting down to Aunt Kade’s
midmorning salon. For a long moment Inos wavered on one foot, with the other
still in the air and arms spread like a cormorant. She stared her horror back
at their surprise, poised on the verge of sprinting through their midst and out
the door on the far side. She was very tempted-at least she would be able to
dispose of the silk-but the way was cluttered by all those ladies on the edges
of their gilt and rosewood chairs, by Kel the footman with a serving trolley
laden with Aunt Kade’s finest china and her magnificent, enormous, silver
tea um giving out its usual disgusting odor of burning whale oil... And then
Aunt Kade had risen, and all the others did so also, and it was too late.
    Aunt
Kade’s plump face was turning pink and assuming that fretted look that
Inos so often provoked these days. Whether to welcome or scold... She was
probably also chewing over problems of protocol and the dowdy brown worsted.
Then she made her decision.
    She
beamed. “Inosolan, my dear! How nice that you can join us! May I present
these ladies? Mistress Jiolinsod, Mistress Ofazi...”
    Feeling
as if her head had come off and floated out through a window, Inos forced a
smile on a face not there. Tucking the silk behind her in her left hand,