Mind of the Magic (Arhel Book 3) Read Online Free PDF Page B

so well made that they were not harmed by their fall from the sky. They landed on their feet. But they could no longer ascend to the sacred presence of Fetupad. They were not humbled by their fall, however. Oh, no. They told each other, ‘We will make our own sky homes, and we will still catch the flying things, and we will still sing on the roofs of houses when the Tide Mother shines without the sun.’ And so they have continued until this very day. And that is why cats climb.”
    Faia nodded. “A very pretty story.”
    “I wanted the cats to have wings, Mama. I thought ol’ Fetupad was mean to them.”
    “I see. So my daughter declares herself a god and gives our cat wings. This doesn’t surprise me. What does surprise me is that you helped her.”
    Witte blushed. “She was so excited about the idea, and I must admit I thought it would be charming.”
    “You thought it would be charming to give Hrogner wings? Hrogner the Thief? Hrogner the Firebug? Hrogner the idiot cat with hands?” Faia shook her head in disbelief.
    “I like your cat. I find him a delightful animal, and a creature after my own heart.”
    Faia arched an eyebrow. “I don’t want to think what that says about you.” She shook her head. “Which gets us as far as the cat’s wings. What about the swallow?”
    “The cat, as soon as it had wings, flew into the air and caught a bird in front of the child.”
    Kirtha’s eyes grew bright with tears, and one rolled slowly down her cheek. “Hrogner caught the bird an’ ate it, Mama. Bad ol’ cat!”
    “So you made the next bird you saw breathe fire.”
    Kirtha pointed an accusing finger at Witte. “He said, if birds could blow fire on cats, cats wouldn’t bother them. He
said!”
    “Did he?” Faia turned to Witte.
    He shrugged. “I was trying to make the child laugh. She was so upset when the cat killed the little bird I had no idea—”
    “On the contrary,” Faia interrupted. “You did have ideas—and you shared them with a five-year-old.” She sighed. “That was the problem.”
    She began to think having Witte as a continuing houseguest might not be the unadulterated bliss she’d hoped. Perhaps she ought to push herself in order to take him to the First Folk ruins soon. It was a pity there was no way she could just do it in the morning, but if she went all the way to the First Folk ruins, but wasn’t prepared to stay, she would never hear the end of it from any of her friends. She definitely needed to get under way soon, though. Meanwhile, she needed to have a talk with Witte—before he had any more amusing ideas.
    He was a charming man. But he was, she began to suspect, well-meaning trouble; the sort of person who stirred things up by not thinking—then stood back with his eyes wide and his hands clean, bemusedly watching the subsequent disaster.
    Even well-meaning trouble was more trouble than she wanted.

Chapter 4

    FAIA slept poorly, and what little sleep she got was full of dreams of cats with wings and a little man dressed all in red who danced from place to place in front of her, while calamity followed.
    She woke to darkness. She tossed for a while, trying to find a comfortable position, but discovered she was wide awake—and soon she wearied of waiting for sleep to return. She rose and walked through the house. Neither Kirtha nor Witte were up, but outside, morning noises had begun. Cattle clop-clopped through the cobblestone streets, heading back from the pastures where they had grazed. Antis-bells rang in the center of town, and the criers from the local temples began their ululations. The fish cart rattled by, the fishman singing, “Feeeeesh, fresh feeeeesh!” All of Omwimmee Trade acted as if morning had already begun.
    She stepped into the street and looked east, toward the far hills. The first rays of dawn should have pinked the horizon, but the sky remained black and the stars glittered coldly.
    Instead of the sun, Faia saw the giant sphere of the Tide Mother