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Pelinor was also close to the action, not to help Impervia, but because the
old knight had developed a sudden enthusiasm for seamanship. In the same way
that he badgered stablehands about horses, he hung at Zunctweed's side in
pursuit of nautical lore. "What does 'belay' mean?" "How do you do something
'handsomely'?" "Which is 'abaft' and 'abeam'?"
Not far away, Oberon clung to the rail looking miserable. He wasn't actually
seasick Lake Erie's waves were minuscule compared to an ocean's, especially on
such a pleasant day but the big lobster clearly had acquired a loathing of
surfaces that moved beneath him. Each time the boat dipped down a wave crest,
Oberon fought not to slide in the same direction... and after hours of
constant exertion, grappling the rail with his pincers, he must have been
counting the seconds before we put into port.
The rest of our group was nowhere in sight. The Caryatid told me our missing
companions were all in the captain's cabin. "Looking at maps. Arguing about
the fastest way to the Falls." She rolled her eyes. "As far as I'm concerned,
we should just talk to people in Crystal Bay. They'll know what's best. If we
let Gretchen choose our route, we'll gallop ten kilometers up some road,
discover a bridge has collapsed during the winter, and have to come all the
way back again."
The Caryatid was right: no sense relying on maps when we could get more
up-to-date information with a few simple questions. And from what I could see
of the town, Crystal Bay looked big enough to justify a stagecoach stop...
maybe even a dispatching depot. Better to hop a stage than rent horses and
strike off on our own.
Still, I felt a niggling urge to peek at a map, just to get the lay of the
land I'd feel better if I had a picture of where we were going. Accordingly, I
headed to the captain's quarters with a blithe and jaunty step, nothing in my
brain except cartographic curiosity... but that evaporated instantly when I
bounced into the cabin and realized who was there.
Three heads turned my way when I entered. Three pretty faces. Gretchen,
Annah, and Myoko: all my complications in one cramped little room.
Gretchen was mostly naked: wearing nothing but a crimson bra like the one I'd
seen on the floor of her bedroom, and a pair of matching panties that were
surprisingly demure by Gretchen's standards no lace or frills or cut-outs. She
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looked up at me as I came through the door, but gave only a distracted smile.
If I'd been some other man, she would have felt obliged to do something
flirtatious (flash her cleavage, wiggle her hips, pretend she had to cover up
to protect her "modesty"), but with me, she didn't bother. I considered that a
compliment.
As soon as Gretchen had deigned to recognize my existence, she turned back to
Myoko and said, "Well?"
Myoko took longer to collect herself she looked flustered and even blushed
slightly at my arrival. My rough-and-ready "Platonic" friend was betraying a
hitherto unsuspected bashfulness... as if I were her husband and had caught
herin flagrante delicto with a nearly nude woman. Not that anything salacious
was going on; Myoko herself was fully clothed, and from what I could see, she
was simply trying to unknot the lacings on the back of a red knit gown. No
doubt the gown was Gretchen's, taken from that traveling case she'd packed the
night before. Perhaps Myoko was merely embarrassed to be seen playing
Gretchen's dressmaid. But it was a small cabin, and Myoko had no room to keep
her distance from Gretchen's bare skin. As I watched, she surreptitiously
tried to squeeze a little farther away, dropping her gaze to the knots she was
trying to untie. "Don't rush me," she mumbled to Gretchen.
The blush burned more brightly in Myoko's cheeks.
Annah was behind the other two, higher than both because she was standing on
the captain's bed. Like Gretchen she gave me only a distracted smile; then she
went back to arranging Gretchen's hair. In the dim confined quarters, I
couldn't see much of what Annah was doing, but I assumed she was making a
braid. Annah had a reputation for braids: at the academy, girls sometimes
tried to transfer to Annah's floor solely so she'd do their hair. Personally,
I've never understood the female fascination with braids braids always remind
me of the ugly leather bumps on a crocodile's back but I learned long ago to
keep quiet on the subject.
Gretchen soon grew bored watching Myoko worry at the gown's knots, so she
turned back to me. (Behind her, Annah made an exasperated sigh and tried to
hold Gretchen's head still.) "So, Phil,darling," Gretchen said, "aren't you
justamazed?"
I almost said, "By what?" The part of my brain devoted to self-preservation
vetoed that initial response and frantically searched for some source of
amazement I'd overlooked. Gretchen's body? Always delicious, but I couldn't
see anything different from last night (except the absence of goose-pimples).
The fact that Myoko and Gretchen weren't sniping at each other? Yes, that was
amazing, but probably not what Gretchen meant. I looked around the room,
knowing I was taking too long to answer, but unable to see anything but the
three women... Gretchen in her underwear... the crimson gown...
Crimson?Sorcerer's crimson?
Gretchen's lingerie was the same color. And I'd seen a crimson bra in her
bedroom the night before.
I blurted, "You're pretending to be a sorceress?"
Gretchen's eyes flashed. "No, silly billy Iam a sorceress. Do you think Ibuy
all those shine-stones?"
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My mouth hung open for an undignified length of time... but meanwhile facts
were sorting themselves out in my brain.
Gretchen had grown up with sorcerers: her father employed quite a few to cast
obedience spells on demons. Most children of wealthy families also received
training in sorcerous fundamentals, partly to prepare them for managing
spellcaster underlings, and partly to see if they themselves had any aptitude
for enchantments. It wasn't necessarily good news to find you had a knack for
magic considering the nature of most arcane rituals, sorcery wasn't a
respectable profession but just as the well-to-do are allowed to draw and
paint as long as they don't becomeartists, they're allowed to cast spells as
long as they don't get toomystical. All of which argued it was possible that [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]