Read Online Call of Brindelier (Keepers of the Wellsprings Book 3) by Missy Sheldrake - Free Book Online

noble,” a whisper from the feather itself startles us. The sound is quick and soft, like a brisk wind through the leaves of trees. “But you left out the important part, Azi. Remember? The threat. The reason why all of it is necessary.”
    The air shimmers over the feather and the form of a fairy emerges slowly. He’s dressed in shining leaf-green plates that mimic a mantis shell. His body is long and lean, giving the appearance that he’s been stretched out, and his yellow hair is blown straight back to a point. He pushes his beetle-like eye-scopes up to rest on his forehead and squints at us.
    “Well! It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Shush whispers hurriedly. “Good to see you again, both of you!

Chapter Five: Whisperings of Warning
    Tib
    “Suppertime Ze,” I whisper to the cat as I slink to the doorway. She meows at me a little reluctantly. “Go on,” I say, and she saunters away off toward the south. Toward Nessa’s. I don’t want her spotted in the tavern again so soon. Someone might get suspicious.
    I sneak along the tables. The rich boy is still there. Spooning cobbler into his mouth. Staring at the fire. The crowd’s gotten louder in here since I left. Thicker, too. There’s barely a place to sit. I take a deep breath. I slip between two larger men who are busy with their dice and come out visible on the other side. Loren doesn’t notice me. He’s in a daze. Thinking. Probably thinking about the horrible things that are about to happen to the princess.
    “This seat taken?” I drop onto the bench beside him. Put a hand on my dagger hilt. He’s observant. He notices the threat right away. Nothing he can do, though. He’s got me on one side and the wall on the other. His eyes slide slowly away. Back to his bowl. He shrugs. Tries to act calm. He can’t fool me. He’s scared.
    “Tib!” the shrill voice makes me wince. Gemma, a young barmaid, swoops in on me in a flurry of skirts and perfume. Her face is painted crazy pink and red and blue. Some men love it. I’ve seen the way they eye her. Not me. It makes her look much older than when I met her at the fishmonger. Not my age anymore, definitely. She leans down so we’re eye to eye. Looks me over. Flutters her eyelashes. “Something to eat?” she asks with an inviting smile.
    “Uh,” I swallow. Slide away, toward Loren. Nod. “Whatever he has, Gemma.” I point to the bowl.
    She moves closer. Purrs at me like Zeze. “Anything else?” she whispers.
    “No. Thanks.” I try not to let my gaze stray to her bare shoulders or the low cut of her shirt as she hovers. When I shake my head again, her smile falters a little.
    “All right, Sweeting. If you change your mind, you let me know,” she taps my shoulder playfully and goes off to get my cobbler. Loren turns to me.
    “Are you friends with her?” he asks. The way he watches her leave makes it obvious he likes her paint and perfume.
    “I’ve known her for a while,” I say.
    “That girl in the alley. You stopped her. You stopped all of them. They were afraid of you or something.” He leans back against the wall. Tries to look taller. “I could have, you know. They would have all been sorry. Except…”
    “Except you weren’t supposed to use magic,” I finish for him.
    “How did you…?” he asks. Stares at me. Shakes his head. “Anyway, thanks for stopping them,” he says after a while. He glances past me, like he’s trying to figure out his escape.
    “What was it? In the bag?” I rest my arm on the table. Make it clear he’s not getting past me until I have answers.
    “I can use it. Magic. I can if I need to. I could use it now.” He reaches toward me. His fingertips crackle.
    “Go on,” I laugh. “Try it.”
    He tilts his head. Watches me. Moves his crackling hand closer. Blue sparks. A lightning bolt is painful, even at a small scale. It would jolt through me. Burn my flesh. Well, not me. Someone else, maybe. When I don’t flinch, he drops his hand to his lap,