The Margrave Read Online Free PDF

down.
    “But it must breathe.” Puzzled, Galen explored the fur. “There are small flaps here. Like gills.”
    “Gills?” The Sekoi looked disgusted.
    “Similar. And here, look, these spines behind the neck.” Galen snatched his hand back quickly, then crouched, bringing his face close. “They are sharp. Venomous, I should think.”
    “Then be careful.” The Sekoi shivered. “Such Kest-poisons can harm even after death.”
    But Galen had turned the beast’s face and opened its mouth. Its teeth were long and sharp.
    There was a moment of silence, broken only by the cracking fire. Then the Sekoi said, “Certainly an eater of meat.”
    Galen sat back on his heels. “This is the seventh new species since the winter. Remember that antelope, the one with the striped horns? A ferocious thing.”
    “The jellyfish that crawled out of the stream.” Raffi massaged his sore ribs.
    The Sekoi made a mew of distaste. “The worst was that bloated toad.”
    “Crab.”
    “It could have been either.”
    Galen went back to the fire and stirred the flames. A shower of sparks lit his face. “Kest made many horrors. The Order once had a great catalog of over twenty thousand different species of creature, but even that number was nothing like the total. There may be millions. There were always things we had never seen before; the beasts interbreed or mutate.” He gazed down somberly at the dead creature. “But lately there seems to have been more. And each more dangerous.”
    In the silence the stream sounded loud, trickling over invisible stones. Raffi’s hunger came back like a sudden wave and overwhelmed him. “Can’t we have something to eat?”
    Galen looked at him, intensely irritated. “Is that all you can ever think about! Do what you want, for Flain’s sake.”
    The Sekoi laughed and tipped the food bag out. There were some mushrooms, a small turnip, and the last few strips of uncooked fish, looking cold and unappetizing. Raffi didn’t care. He speared one on a stick and held it hastily over the fire.
    “Haven’t you got any cooking things?” It was the old woman who had spoken.
    Surprised, Raffi said, “Yes, but . . .”
    “Then let me do it, keeper. It’s the least way I can thank you.” The herbal drink had done her good. Her face was tearstained and haggard, but she pushed the wisps of hair back fussily and took the pan Raffi held out.
    “Not very clean.” She tipped it critically.
    “No.”
    “And you have some fat?”
    He glanced at Galen, then took out the precious jar of oil. The jar was a relic—it had a strange lid that sprang open with a gentle pressure on a thumb-pad; he showed her how it worked.
    She made the sign of honor furtively, then poured the oil. “At home, we have five relics.”
    Galen came and sat down nearby. “In your house?”
    She nodded. “They are kept in secret. You may see them, if we reach that far. If you wish, keeper, and they are important, you may take them. We are always in danger of the Watch finding them.”
    Galen nodded. “You feel well enough to go on tomorrow?”
    “My daughter and the little one will be worried sick.” She looked around at them all. “Bless you again, keepers. Flain sent you to me. It was a great miracle.”
    The oil was hissing. Deftly she took the fish and mushrooms and set them to fry. From a bag around her waist she measured salt and a dark powder and added it; it smelled like spices, and Raffi’s mouth started watering. The fish hissed and crackled.
    “Will you tell us what happened?” Galen asked.
    She was quiet a moment, stirring the mixture. Then she said, “My name is Alys Varro, masters. My village lies at the foot of these mountains, in the valley of the small river called Radicas, about a day’s walk now from here. A quiet place, with few people. Four days ago, a Watch-patrol rode in.”
    Galen looked at the Sekoi. “For work slaves.”
    “They took twenty of us. All the men, some of the young women. And me.” She