Magic Study Read Online Free PDF Page A

it my own, but I came up with a blank. My life in Ixia hadn’t included special items such as toys, gifts or art. I stifled a bark of laughter. My only private room had been my dungeon cell.
      Perl jumped from her seat. “Yelena, please sit down. I’ll get us some lunch. You have no meat on your bones.” As she hurried away, she called toward the ceiling, “Esau, Yelena’s here. Come down for tea.”
      Alone, I glanced around the sitting area. The warm air smelled faintly of apples. The couch and two armchairs appeared to be made from ropes woven together, yet they were hard to the touch. The furniture was unlike the other Zaltana chairs I had seen, which were constructed with branches and sticks tied together.
      I settled into an armchair; the red leaf-patterned cushions crunched under my weight, and I wondered what had been stuffed inside them. My gaze lingered on a black wooden bowl on a small glass-topped table in front of the couch. The bowl looked to be hand carved. I tried to relax, which worked until I saw a long counter against the back wall.
      Stretching across the length of the countertop was a series of odd-shaped bottles connected by loops of tubes. Unlit candles sat under some of the containers. The configuration reminded me of Reyad’s lab. The memory of his collection of glass jars and metal instruments unnerved me. Visions of being chained to a bed while Reyad searched for the perfect torture device caused sweat to roll down my neck and my heart to squeeze. I berated myself for my overactive imagination. It was ridiculous that a similar contraption could make me recoil after two years.
      I forced myself closer. Amber liquid pooled in a few bottles. I picked up one and swirled the contents. A strong apple scent filled my nose. The memory of swinging and laughter floated into my mind. The image disappeared when I focused on it. Frustrated, I set the bottle down.
      The shelves behind the table were lined with rows of more bottles. The contraption looked like a still for making alcohol. Perhaps the liquid was an apple brandy like General Rasmussen’s of Military District 7 in Ixia.
      I heard my mother return, and turned around. She held a tray full of cut fruit, berries and some tea. Placing the lunch on the small table before the couch, she gestured for me to join her.
      “Found my distillery, I see,” she said as if every Zaltana had one in their living room. “Smell anything familiar?”
      “Brandy?” I guessed.
      Her shoulders drooped just a bit, but her smile didn’t waver. “Try again.”
      Putting my nose over one of the amber-filled bottles, I inhaled. The scent blanketed me in feelings of comfort and safety. It also choked and smothered. Memories of bouncing mixed with the image of lying on my back, clawing at my throat. I suddenly felt light-headed.
      “Yelena, sit down.” My mother’s hand was on my elbow, guiding me to a chair. “You shouldn’t have breathed in so deeply. It’s very concentrated.” She kept her hand on my shoulder.
      “What is it?” I asked.
      “My Apple Berry perfume.”
      “Perfume?”
      “You don’t remember.” This time her disappointment showed as her smile faded from her lips. “I wore it all the time when you were a child. It’s my best-selling perfume-very popular with the magicians at the Keep. When you disappeared, I couldn’t wear it anymore.” Her hand touched her throat again as if she were trying to block either her words or emotions.
      With the word “magicians” my windpipe tightened. The scene of my brief abduction at the Fire Festival the previous year played in my mind. The tents, the darkness and the smell of Apple Berry mixed with the taste of ashes and the image of Irys ordering four men to strangle me to death.
      “Does Irys wear your perfumes?” I asked.
      “Oh, yes. Apple Berry is her favorite. In fact, she asked me last night to make her more. Does the scent remind