The Wyvern's Spur - Kate Novak [28]
"His name should be on the back somewhere," Giogi muttered, searching the canvas. "How odd. The name's been blotted out"
Naturally, Olive thought. The Harpers went to a great deal of trouble wiping his name from the Realms.
"Doesn't matter," Giogi said. "He could be any Wyvernspur. Wyvernspurs all look alike. Except me, of course. I take after my mother, you see."
Giogi hung the picture back up and offered Olive a handful of oats, sweetened with molasses, from a wooden bucket. "See what I have? Num-nums," he said.
The halfling-turned-burro declined to even sniff at the grain.
"Not hungry, eh? Well, we'll leave them for you as a midnight snack, in case you get peckish."
Giogi dumped the oats back into the bucket and left it against the wall. "Nighty night," he said, scratching Olive between her ears before she had a chance to dodge away. He slipped his belt off her and left the stall, closing and latching its door behind him. Before he left the stable, he blew out the lamp.
Left alone in the dark, Olive tried to make plans. I have to think of a way to get out of here, she thought. I have to get someone to turn me back the way I belong. I have to avenge Jade's death. All she could think about, though, was Jade.
Olive had benefited from her association with Jade, as with no other person. Of course, there had been the practical benefits. Like Alias, Jade could not be detected magically, and this protection extended to her companions. Jade had also been an appreciative audience for all Olive's songs-unlike Alias, whose habit of performing better songs had constantly pricked Olive's jealousy. Most importantly, though, Jade had simply been the best friend Olive had ever had.
Jade had been a perfect companion. She had enjoyed all the things Olive did: practicing her craft, celebrating with food and drink, gossiping, traveling-but only in fair weather-and meeting new people. Olive had once wondered if, instead of getting a spirit and soul from a paladin, as Alias had, Jade's spirit and soul had been cleft from the halfling's own. That would have explained why Olive felt so drawn to the human. Whether it was true or not. Olive knew for a fact that the last six days without Jade had been the loneliest she could recall in her lifetime.
Not only had she missed the woman, but secretly she'd been worried sick about Jade. Olive had been able to think of only one reason why Jade would disappear, but she could hardly go up to Lord Sudacar and ask, "Have you arrested my friend Jade for picking someone's pocket?" It certainly wouldn't have helped Jade any. Olive had searched through Immersea as subtly as she could. She didn't want Jade to think she kept tabs on her, but the halfling had felt responsible for the human.
She'd felt that way ever since she'd spotted Jade in the streets of Arabel-picking the pocket of a purple dragoon. Jade's technique had been superb, but, of course, purple dragoons were never paid in anything but royal script, which civilians were not allowed to have. If someone doesn't warn her about that, Olive had thought, she'll end up a bonded servant, and those talented fingers will be wasted scrubbing floors.
Right then Olive had realized she was the perfect candidate to look after the girl, train her, and offer her guidance, just as Alias had a saurial paladin to keep her safe. Who better, Olive had thought, than I? Not only do I know more about her than she probably knows about herself, but we share the same craft.
Nonetheless, Olive had been surprised at how easily Jade had accepted her offer to become her apprentice, how quickly Jade had come to depend on her, and how completely the human had trusted her. Because of all this, Olive had come to think of Jade as a daughter. An overgrown daughter, but a beloved daughter.
When Jade had said she'd been visiting family, Olive had felt an unreasonable flare of jealousy Now she wondered angrily, Who was this phony family member who'd kept her Jade away for six