The Wyvern's Spur - Kate Novak [130]
"He's found it."
Olive didn't hear a reply.
Thomas asked, "Is it time yet?"
Speak louder. Olive thought.
"But he might use the spur," Thomas said with a touch of alarm.
Olive crept up the next two steps.
"Do you think that's really wise, sir?" Thomas asked.
He is not talking to a relative of his, Olive realized.
Something soft brushed against the halfling's legs and Olive nearly toppled down the stairs. A black-and-white spotted cat looked up at the halfling and meowed loudly. If it isn't one cat, it's another, Olive growled inwardly. She shooed the beast away, and it went scampering up the stairs.
Thomas did not say anything for at least thirty heartbeats, and Olive grew nervous. Some sixth sense warned her it was time to sneak off. She slipped down the stairs. Just as she reached for the door handle, she heard someone above who was not Thomas utter the word, "Secure."
Olive twisted the doorknob, but the door did not open.
The sound of footfalls crossed the attic floor toward the staircase. Olive spun around and looked up the steep staircase. At the top stood a now-too-familiar figure wearing wizard's robes. "Mistress Ruskettle, you can't be thinking of leaving us so soon. I've been so wanting to meet you."
Olive turned back to the door and pounded and kicked on it. "Giogi!" she screamed. "It's Flattery! Help! Giogi!"
"Static," the wizard whispered, pointing an iron nail at the halfling.
Olive felt all her muscles stiffen at once. She stood frozen with her face and clenched fists leaning against the wood.
"Fetch her up, Thomas," the wizard ordered, "and I'll see to her" The wizard clucked once. "So clever but so much trouble. Just like the other woman in my life."
19
Wyvern and Wizard
Thomas finished shoveling the ashes out of the fireplace of the lilac room and laid a fresh fire for his master's guest. He picked up his shovel and ash bucket and left the room. As he descended the stairs to the front hall, he heard a commotion in the parlor. It sounded as if someone were looting the room. Setting down his ash bucket and brandishing his shovel like a club, the servant crept to the parlor door and opened it just a crack,
Giogioni stood by the open bookshelves with a book in his hand. Scattered all about him, on the chairs, the ottomans, the sofa, the tea table, and the floor, were most of the bookshelves' contents-manuscripts and bound books of every shape and size. Journals kept by Wyvernspur ancestors, histories written about the family, tomes about magic, and catalogs of monsters, had all been rifled through and discarded in a most unceremonious fashion. As Thomas watched, Giogioni frowned and tossed one book angrily across the room before snatching up another,
The mage Cat sat at the writing desk, reading more carefully through books Giogi had discarded.
Thomas knocked and stepped into the room.
"Ah, Thomas, have you seen Mistress Ruskettle? She might be interested in lending a hand here."
"I believe she had some personal business to attend to, sir," Thomas said. "No doubt she'll return before dinner. Is there something particular I could help you find, sir?" he asked.
"Yes, Thomas," Giogi snapped, "how to turn into a wyvern. I can't believe with all the junk written by and about our family, no one took the trouble to record how it's done. Should I ever find out, I most certainly shall write it down."
"I presume, sir, that you have already tried concentrating on the transformation."
"I have. It was a complete bust."
"I'm so sorry, sir. I was under the impression, however, that your interest was academic and not urgent."
"Yes, well, I've changed my mind. Thomas, haven't we got a trunk of books in the attic?"
"Yes, sir, but they're all poetry and romances, hardly the sort to hold the information you seek."
"You never know. Something might have been slipped between the pages or scribbled in the margins of a particularly favorite adventure. Don't bother yourself. I'll fetch them down myself." He moved toward the door.
Thomas neatly intercepted his master before he