Under A Velvet Cloak Read Online Free PDF Page B

Morely’s powers his own. Some town or village might have wanted a Seer, and known he would not remain there voluntarily. Obviously they had known about Kerena, and not wanted her; she was the apprentice, as yet only the shadow of the master.
    Where could they have taken him? Not to any nearby village; the locals knew and respected him, and in any event his abduction would be immediately known in the area, so no nearby village would be able to get away with it. Where, then?
    That perhaps gave her a clue. Most folk remained close to home; travelers stood out. Any local villager anywhere could spot and remember a stranger. It was like perspective: the closer it was, the more obvious the change. They would have to take Morely far away to make him anonymous, for he was known throughout this region. If she could track the motions of travelers, maybe she could find him.
    How could she track travelers? She needed to find a contact, someone who knew how to do it. A trader, perhaps, in a big town or city. Meanwhile, she had to make her living while remaining uncommitted. She knew how to do that, though she did not relish the prospect.
    She spent a lonely night. In the morning she closed up the house and set off with her meager belongings and the cloak. She had hidden Morely’s gold where only he was likely to find it, should he return. She took only enough to get her where she had to go. She would never steal from him.
    In due course she arrived in the shining capital city. Naturally it had a rotten underbelly. This was where she could be anonymous yet in touch.
    At dusk the streetwalkers came out. Kerena approached one. Her Seeing demurred; this was not a good contact. She veered away and went on along the street. Her Seeing did not inform her whether another person was of good or ill character, only whether association would benefit her.
    The third streetwalker was good. Kerena addressed her. “I am new here. Where is the best house?”
    The woman eyed her appraisingly. “You look young and clean. Do you have experience?”
    “Only with one man.”
    “Ideal. Come with me.”
    Kerena started to. Jolie came alert. The tracks were diverging.
    Jolie skipped back to the time before the approach.
Not this one,
she thought firmly.
    Kerena hesitated. Her seeing was divided; it indicated that this woman was good, yet that she was not.
    She’s agood woman, but there’s a better one ahead,
Jolie thought strongly.
    Reluctantly, Kerena passed the woman by.
    Several women farther along she found another
good
one. She spoke to her. The dialogue was similar to the first, and they walked together.
    The two tracks remained converged. Jolie relaxed. She had gotten them through another crisis point. This time had been more of a challenge, because now it was apparent that Kerena’s Seeing was not identical to the alignment.
    The woman led her to the back entrance to an ordinary-seeming house jammed in amidst many. A forbidding woman appeared. “Here is a prospect,” the streetwalker said, holding out her hand.
    The madam sized Kerena up with a single glance. She put a piece of silver into the streetwalker’s hand, and the woman vanished. “You’ll start with Blake. He’ll decide your value. Understand?”
    “Yes.”
    “Wait here.” The madam deposited Kerena in a small waiting room and departed.
    “Oh, you’re new.” The speaker was a sweet-faced girl barely older than Kerena.
    “New,” Kerena agreed. “I am Rena.”
    “I’m Molly. Let’s be friends.”
    There was a certain charm about the girl’s straightforwardness. Her Seeing suggested it was honest. “All right. Is this a good place to be?”
    “Oh, sure. They don’t cheat you here, and if a client roughs you up, they’ll do something about it. But you do have to perform.”
    “I expect to.” She had never wanted to practice her studied wiles on any man but Morely, but now she would have to. She knew he would approve, ironically.
    “Do your very best with Blake; his