On Fire’s Wings

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Book: On Fire’s Wings Read Online Free PDF
Author: Christie Golden
visible beneath the skin, and even from this distance Tahmu could see their eyes were running with a thick, black ooze. The horses barely had enough energy to swish their tails at the flies that swarmed about them. It was better to trade directly with the Horserider Clan or the Sa’abah Clan than to pick up an animal here at the market.
    And, Tahmu mused sourly, it is better to trade with those clans than to fight with them. Unfortunately, the choice was not always his.
    They followed the road toward the mountain range that jutted skyward like a mouthful of broken teeth. Tahmu finally decided that this silence from the little sparrow of a girl he had seen dancing on the street corner was not to his liking, Bai-sha or no.
    â€œDo you not have any questions as to your duties, little one?”
    She sat in front of him as she had before, and his arm was a strong support about her waist. He felt her shrug against him.
    â€œI am certain that the great khashim has head servants to explain my duties once I have arrived,” she said, quite properly.
    Tahmu sighed a little in exasperation. Chuckling, he said, “I do not know how to handle you, little one. If you were—” His voice caught. He coughed, as if dust had tickled his throat, and continued. “If you were my child, I would know. If you were the daughter of a stranger, I would know. If you were a servant, I would know. But you are none of these, and I touch you with my words as I touch a young hawk with my fingers—gingerly, with gloves, ready to jerk my hand back or pet you on the head.”
    That roused a giggle from her, as he had intended. Continuing the gentle joke, Tahmu patted the sun-warmed top of her head cautiously. The giggling increased.
    â€œHow curious your hair is, Kevla. Your mother’s hair is black, as is—as is nearly everyone’s. Yours seems black, but in the sun, it is red. Did your mother perchance use henna on it?”
    â€œNo. It’s always been like that.” She twisted to look at him, her eyes revealing a sudden fear. “Is—is that wrong?”
    â€œNo, no,” soothed Tahmu. “Perhaps it is because you were out so often in the sun with no head covering. When we reach the House, you will be given proper clothing, as befits the servant of a khashim .”
    She lowered her eyes at that, her face clearly showing the struggle between fear and hope. Poor, lost little girl. He hoped she would be happy living at the House, and voiced that desire to her.
    â€œThey say many things about the noble khashim’s great House,” said Kevla, seizing upon the distraction. “Are they true?”
    â€œWell, that depends on who ‘they’ are and what ‘they’ say.”
    â€œOh, so many things! I have heard there is water, more water than anyone could ever drink. I have heard there is even water for bathing, hidden in a great cavern beneath the House. I have heard the walls are of glass, and many colored, and that you have strange beasts that can cross the desert with only a cupful of water!”
    She turned again to face him. Her words came faster as her enthusiasm for the tales—some of them quite fabulous—came pouring out.
    â€œI have heard it is cool in the House in the day and warm at night. I have heard there is feasting every single evening! I have heard that the birds are trained to sing songs on command, that your hunting dogs can outrun a horse, that your wife’s beauty would blind a man if he did not look upon her with proper respect, that—”
    Kevla’s eyes were fixed on Tahmu’s face. He knew he ought to discourage such familiar behavior, but he could not. Not today, not after the cruel but ultimately kind words Keishla had said. Time enough for Kevla to learn such things along with her other duties, once they had reached the House. So instead of rebuking her, Tahmu let the girl prattle on with her “I have heard”
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