The Wyvern's Spur - Kate Novak [27]
No! Olive thought with alarm. I just brought it to you, you idiot. You have to change me back to a halfling. She tried to snatch at the purse strings with her teeth, but Giogi gave her a swat on the muzzle, and she missed.
"Silly creature. Mustn't chew on them," he said tucking the strings all the way into his cloak pocket. "They're not good for you, you know. Now, what are you doing roaming loose in my garden? Hmm?"
Olive glared at the nobleman in frustration.
"Thomas must have had a reason for procuring you," Giogi said. "Not the sentimental type, ol' Thomas. Very responsible. Always spends my money wisely."
Olive tried to protest that Thomas had not bought her, but, of course, she could only bray angrily. This she did, at a volume that would put a banshee to shame.
"Shh. You'll wake the neighbors. Thomas wouldn't have left you untied. He's responsible, you know. You must have chewed through the rope, eh? Maybe we'd better tuck you in the carriage house." With those words, he undipped the buckle fastening his belt and slid his belt from his waist with a whiplike snap.
Olive's eyes widened, and she backed away from the nobleman. She brayed now with fear. Her tail and hindquarters banged against the iron gate, which rattled but remained securely fastened, blocking her escape. She dodged to the right, but before she could maneuver around him, Giogi had fashioned his belt into a noose and slipped it neatly over her head.
Olive jumped away, hoping to jerk the noose free of Giogi's grip, but the noble's grasp was too firm. The sudden choking sensation broke her spirit immediately.
This had been the worst night of her life. Watching her best friend murdered had been awful. Recognizing the murderer had been a shock. Fleeing for her life had been terrifying. Being mistaken for a beast was completely humiliating. More miserable than she'd ever been in her life. Olive walked docilely alongside Giogi as he led her to the carriage house.
"Daisyeye," Giogi called out softly as he opened the smaller of the carriage house's two doors and led Olive inside. "I've brought you some company, Daisyeye."
Giogi lit an oil lamp beside the door. In the light, the carriage house looked warm and cheery. From her burro's-eye-view, Olive could see a buggy painted vibrant yellow and green and two horse stalls, one occupied by a chestnut mare.
The other stall was empty, and Giogi led Olive into it. He fussed about her-the perfect host trying to make his guest comfortable. Olive realized he meant well, but she could have wished he weren't trying so much in his drunken state. He laid only half the amount of bedding straw she needed, but left her with twice as much hay as a horse could eat in a day and sloshed more water on the floor than in her water trough. Ignoring the hay, Olive dipped her muzzle in the water and gulped thirstily, thinking how much she really needed something stronger to drink. When she finally came up for air, her gaze wandered idly around the walls of her stall.
Hanging on the outer wall was a portrait of a man with bird-like features, silky black hair, and piercing blue eves. His powerful hands rested on a seven-stringed yarting. A silver brooch glistened on his tabard. The eyes in the portrait seemed to stare right at Olive, boring into her soul, so that she imagined the man was watching her, undeceived by her magical disguise. Instinctively Olive backed away, braying with alarm.
Giogi looked up at the wall where the burro's gaze was fixed. He seemed startled by the portrait, too, for a moment, at least. Then he laughed, reached up, and took the painting down.
"Nothing to worry about," he murmured soothingly. "Look, silly," he said, holding the frame up to her muzzle so she could sniff at the painting. "It's only the picture of some old, dead ancestor. Completely harmless."
Wrong, Olive thought. He's not dead, and he's