Unicorn Vengeance Read Online Free PDF

security of the Temple gates take root where there was no soil.
    Clearly ‘twas no more than that. A squire took his horse’s reins, but Wolfram barely noticed the boy, so lost was he in his thoughts.
    â€˜Twas evident he would have to recover the coin. He straightened his shoulders as he walked, telling himself that he was foolish to have any doubts about listening to her music again.
    â€˜Twas only music, and naught had he to fear. The problem would be solved, the coin would be safely within his grip again before he had to make an accounting to the Master. None would ever know that Wolfram had erred. ‘Twas simple.
    Before he could even leave the stable, a clerk granted him the summons to the Master’s office. In that dread moment, Wolfram was certain that that esteemed man must have guessed what he had done. He felt his color rise guiltily and forced his pulse to resume its normal pace.
    Impossible ‘twas that the Master could know. Impossible, but the wedge of doubt within Wolfram could not be dislodged.
    * * *
    The pale-eyed stranger had disappeared so completely that Genevieve wondered if indeed she had imagined his presence. Was she not hungry beyond belief? Mayhap her overwrought imagination had conjured him from naught. Mayhap she had not seen him at all. Mayhap the twilight played tricks with her vision.
    Mayhap she had been a fool of the worst order to come to Paris. Genevieve confronted the silent square dejectedly as the shadows drew long and cold. The gate creaked behind her as the keeper lowered it against the night and she strolled dejectedly away.
    Naught had changed, and ‘twas easy to wonder whether she had conjured him in her mind alone. She shivered suddenly, feeling more solitary than ever she had before.
    The sight of the coin reposing on the cobblestones brought her up short. Genevieve straightened carefully, but it moved naught. It glinted in the golden light of the setting sun, and the very sight of it granted her fears a cursory dismissal.
    He had been here. But she would not take alms from a killer. Genevieve spun away as disappointment flooded through her.
    She had failed to strike the telling blow she had vowed to take. Frustration rose hot and heavy within her breast, and Genevieve fairly stamped her foot. She had seen her enemy and done naught! She had not even learned the man’s name! Curse her foolishness! She spun around with the germ of an idea, but the gate was barred and the keeper gone from sight.
    Not that that man would have told her anything, she concluded bitterly.
    For her indecision, Alzeu’s murderer still stalked the streets. Curse her own slow thinking! And in addition, naught had she to show for her attempt to earn some coin. Naught for her belly, naught for shelter on this night when the wind felt fit to bring a flurry of snow. Genevieve shivered again, cursing the threadbare nature of her cloak.
    Her gaze dragged unwillingly back to the coin on the cobblestones.
    Naught had she but the coin a murderer had cast her way. He alone had seen fit to salute her skill. Genevieve’s heart twisted in indecision as she eyed the coin that could be her salvation this night. Wrong ‘twould be to take the coin and enjoy the patronage of Alzeu’s killer, this she knew without doubt.
    As though to challenge that assertion, her belly growled in discontent. Genevieve chewed her lip indecisively. The coin caught the light, as though ‘twould deliberately tempt her to pick it up. Dark clouds rolled over the city.
    A chill wind frolicked across the roofs and jostled loose shingles. Shutters were slammed shut on a home across the way, and the scent of a freshly kindled fire taunted Genevieve’s nostrils. She fancied she could smell roasted meat and readily imagined the scene before many a hearth. ‘Twould storm this night, of that she had little doubt.
    Genevieve took a step forward, then stopped. ‘Twas improper to accept his