The Thirteenth House (Twelve Houses) Read Online Free PDF Page B

her head out from between the bars. Slowly, silently, still keeping her eyes on the prisoner, she shifted to her natural shape. Certain details fell away from her; others became clearer. Absurdly, it was the color of his hair that she noticed most right now. Dark blond, even by moonlight. She thought his face looked proud and passionate, sculpted into a frown by whatever he was dreaming. He looked very much like the sort of man a king would trust to be regent.
     
    “Romar Brendyn,” she called in a low voice. “Romar Brendyn, wake up.”
     

CHAPTER 3
     
    R OMAR Brendyn was awake and on his feet, the blanket bunched around his ankles, before Kirra had even finished speaking his name the second time. As far as she could tell, he felt not a moment’s disorientation; he seemed to know exactly where he was and where the voice was coming from. Still, it was clear he had no idea who was confronting him here in the middle of the night—his body was ready, but his face was puzzled.
     
    They stared at each other for a moment. The moon gathered her strength enough to push the clouds aside, just for a few minutes, and came curiously peering through the square window to see if there was anything interesting inside. By its light, Kirra could see Romar Brendyn try to guess what fresh danger had presented itself and if there was any way to turn it to his advantage.
     
    She knew she should speak up right away, identify herself, reassure him, but she allowed herself the luxury of admiring him just a moment longer. Despite being woken from sound sleep and confronted by a mystery, he did not look to be worried or at a loss. She thought he might be wondering if he could get close enough to the grille to reach through it and strangle her, and then steal any keys she might have hanging from her belt.
     
    The thought made her laugh out loud.
     
    His expression changed from one of calculation to one of complete bafflement. “Who are you?” he demanded.
     
    She thrust her hand through the bars and hurried to introduce herself. “Kirra Danalustrous. I’ve come to rescue you.”
     
    He had taken a step forward, but at that he came to a halt, astonished. “Kirra Danalustrous! What? Why would—” He shook his head.
     
    “The king got word of your abduction,” she said, trying to explain quickly because it really did seem improbable, a serramarra of Danalustrous riding about the countryside with the aim of delivering noblemen from danger. “He sent me after you with a team of friends. I think we’ll be able to free you tomorrow night.”
     
    He came close enough to grip the bars. She had dropped her hand by this time, since he didn’t seem eager to take it. “Why not tonight?” he said. “Why not now?”
     
    She felt a rush of admiration again. He probably didn’t remember he’d met her before and certainly couldn’t figure out why she’d been sent on this mission, but he didn’t feel like lingering here any longer than he had to. You’ve come for me? Good. Get me out.
     
    She laughed. “We need to put a plan in place, and we don’t have time to do it tonight. You don’t seem to be in any immediate danger—and I certainly don’t think your captors will kill you while they’ve got guests in the house. But I think we can free you tomorrow and be halfway to Merrenstow by the following morning.”
     
    His fingers closed even more tightly around the bars and he glowered down at her. He was radiating irritation and impatience but seemed as if he was trying to retain some scraps of courtesy. “If we’re not going to try to file down the window bars tonight,” he said at last, “then let’s start from the beginning. Why did the king send a Danalustrous serramarra after me? Did he at least send anyone with you who might be able to help?”
     
    She couldn’t help grinning at that. “Yes, indeed. I’ve got a King’s Rider with me and two other mystics. Between us—”
     
    “Mystics,” he interrupted. “