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.Fame and fortune won by my sword.But they’re worthless in comparison to what I once had.And now there’s only my sister.Would you have me turn my back on my family once again?”“Er,” said Jute, thinking of Lena taking his place in the Silentman’s cell.“You chose to leave your family,” said the hawk angrily."Would you have us pay for that choice?"“I only want one last chance.”“We all want one last chance,” said the ghost.“All of us have regrets.I can’t remember mine, but I’m sure I’ve got ‘em.”Declan’s hand went to his throat.Something lay there—a length of wire or fine chain gleaming against his dark skin.Light shone on a smooth round stone.A pearl.He pulled at the wire as if it choked him, but when he saw Jute’s eye on him, he twitched his cloak closed to hide what lay around his neck.“Just one more chance,” Declan said.He spoke more to himself than to anyone else.“Well, boy?” said the hawk harshly.The wind blew this way and that, as if saying it would be happy going anywhere.Anywhere that Jute went.“We aren’t far behind them, are we?” said the boy.Declan looked up, hope in his eyes.“No,” he said.“No, we aren’t.”“This is a bad choice,” said the hawk.“The only thing that matters is preserving Jute’s life, the life of the anbeorun.If the Wind falls into the hands of the Dark, then Tormay will surely be lost.”“What’s the difference between one or many?”“If one falls, then so be it, if many shall be saved,” said the hawk.The hawk spoke angrily and the words rang in the air and in Jute’s mind.But even as the boy considered this and the unpleasant thought of falling into the hands of the Dark, he felt the wind blow through his mind.It seemed pleased.Excited.And curious.As if it wished to see where the hunt would go.The hawk snorted in annoyance.“We shouldn’t waste any time, should we?” said Jute.The rain eased then, subsiding to a drizzle and then a mist.Oddly enough, the wind shifted until it was blowing out of the southeast.“Perfect,” said Declan.He tried to smile, but could not.“We’ll catch their scent and they’ll not have ours.”“Hmmph,” said the hawk, and Jute could feel anger in the grip of the bird’s claws on his shoulders.They headed southeast with the wind in their faces.Declan moved along with a fast loping stride and it was all Jute could do to keep up with him.His side ached and his lungs burned.He could hear the ghost nattering on about toads and other ingredients dictated by an ancient recipe for invisibility.“Of course,” said the ghost, “with that combination of ingredients, if you get either the burdock or the toad juice out of ratio, you’re either dead or paralyzed.”Jute, stop panting like that, said the hawk.It was the first thing the bird had said in over two hours.I can’t help it.Yes, you can.I’m tired.The shadow of the hawk slid across the ground in front of Jute, who looked up to see the bird sailing through the sky overhead.Does the wind ever tire?CHAPTER FIFTY-THREETHE VINDICTIVENESS OF CATSSmede shivered in the alley across the street from his house.It was raining again and he was cold.His teeth chattered.Something rustled behind him in the alley and he shrank back in the shadows.He groped in his pocket for his knife, but then relaxed.It was only a cat.A bedraggled little cat hurrying by, dodging raindrops and downspouts.The cat gave him a cross look as if to say it had no regard for humans stupid enough to be out on such a night.The cat trotted around a corner and was gone.Smede gnawed his lip and stared across the street at his house.With the rain and the general state of disarray he was in, he looked like a shapeless lump of shadow.He blinked and then squinted.There.A hint of movement in the window across the street.The third-story window.It had been the merest of movements.Smede whimpered, thinking there in the dark.All that gold.Locked away in his strongbox.So close and so far away.He dared not go up to his rooms.Surely a blade and death waited for him there.The Silentman had put the word out.The Guild was on the lookout.Death stalked him on the streets of Hearne.His master was gone.“Curse them all,” muttered Smede to himself.“Oh, what’ll I do? I’m all alone.Where shall I go?”If he left the city, surely he could find safety in the south.Somewhere far away.Vomaro, perhaps.Harth.The Guild did hardly any business in Harth.But he couldn’t leave his gold.He couldn’t.And then Smede’s thoughts turned to the house on Stalu Street.Where he had first met his master.His master was gone, but he could find solace there.Sanctuary from the Guild.The wards still held around that house, though the ancient spell was broken.An idea sparked in his head.Smede grinnned, his head bobbing up and down.A downspout trickled onto his head but he did not notice [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]