Spirit's Oath Read Online Free PDF

world boasts a living ghosthound,” Martin said, his voice quivering with pride. “I have a few skins in the gallery upstairs, but it’s not the same. Their patterns stop moving when they die, so you don’t get the full effect. The only way to truly appreciate a ghosthound is to see one yourself. Took me almost three years to get a live one. Isn’t he magnificent?”
    “He is,” Miranda said, though not for the reasons Martin mentioned. The ghosthound’s eyes were on Martin now, and they shone with such hatred it took her breath away. Unlike the other animals, which had looked hot or uncomfortable or simply bored in their cages, this animal looked furious. Usually, a spirit’s intelligence and power were directly related to its size. Animals were different, though. With the exception of humans, animals tended to be relatively less intelligent than their size said they should be. Spiritualist scholars postulated this was because they had to use some of their power maintaining a living body. It was a trade–off—a horse tended to be markedly less intelligent than a rock of the same size, but where the rock was stuck in one place and spent most of its time asleep, the horse stayed awake and could go where it pleased. Looking at the ghosthound’s eyes, though, Miranda couldn’t help but see the intelligence shining behind them. Whatever this ghosthound was, he was no simple animal like the others. The deep hatred in his eyes could only grow in a thinking mind.
    Martin must have seen it, too, because he grabbed Miranda’s arm and pulled her back a step. “Best not to get too close to the cage,” he said, his voice slightly less smug than before. “I haven’t broken him to human company yet, and even trapped behind the bars, his reach would surprise you. That, and he’s very, very fast.”
    As though to prove him right, the ghosthound chose that moment to throw himself against the bars. He moved so quickly Miranda’s eyes couldn’t follow. One moment he was pacing, the next the bars crashed as he slammed into them, his front claws slicing out into the air several feet in front of the cage.
    The noise made them both jump. Martin recovered first, straightening his jacket with a glare. “I’m going to tighten those bars in a few days so he can’t fit his paw through,” he said. “Come, Miss Lyonette. I believe it’s time for dinner, and you don’t want to see that creature eat.”
    Shaken by the ghosthound’s speed, Miranda let Martin lead her back past the other cages. But as they stepped out into the gardens, the fresh air cleared her head, and she turned on her host with new fury. “You shouldn’t keep that ghosthound caged,” she said. “He’s intelligent.”
    Martin laughed. “No more intelligent than my hunting dogs, I assure you. He’s an animal, and a very well treated one. I take exquisite care of all my treasures. Once he calms down a little, I’ll move him to a larger enclosure.”
    “He’s not going to calm down,” Miranda said, glaring at him as they walked across the lawn toward the house. “He hates you.”
    “Ghosthounds hate everyone,” Martin said with a shrug. “He’ll come around once he realizes how good he has it here. As I said, he’s as smart as my hunting dogs, and animals are much better at recognizing a good deal than humans. In a month he’ll be docile as a puppy. You won’t even recognize him.”
    Miranda doubted that very much, but they were entering the ballroom, so she was forced to hold her anger for the moment.
    Martin delivered her to her family and took his leave. Miranda was surprised to see her mother smiling as he left. She’d been bracing for a lecture about running around unchaperoned with a man, especially one who didn’t come from a good family, but Lady Lyonette looked almost pleased as she laced her arm through Miranda’s and led the way up the stairs to dress for dinner.
    As to be expected for such a large party, dinner was a grand affair.