The Wyvern's Spur - Kate Novak [82]
I have to find some way to protect her from him, Giogi thought with determination. He lav in bed debating whether or not to tell Sudacar about Cat and Flattery. Before he came to a decision, though, he fell asleep. Despite the nobleman's anxieties, no more screams or dreams disturbed his rest.
*****
Maela's boarding house, where Olive had taken a room for the winter, catered to an exclusive clientele. While Maela's rates were reasonable, and her home clean and comfortable, not everyone would consider crossing her doorstep. Maela was a halfling, and she kept a halfling-sized townhouse in the heart of Immersea.
Olive could have stayed at a room in the Five Fine Fish. The Fish was at the center of Immersea night life and where Jade had chosen to stay. The attractions of the Fish could not compete with the comfort of living at Maela's, though. At Maela's, a halfling didn't need to scramble onto the furniture or use her hands to scale the staircases or stand on tiptoes to see out the windows or climb upon chairs to slide door bolts shut. Maela's low ceilings were enough to make Olive feel safe and cozy. The nicest thing about Maela's house was its larder, which Maela kept well stocked and unlocked.
Olive's first action upon returning home to Maela's the night before had been to visit that larder. The remainders of that raid lay on a plate on the dressing table in Olive's bedroom. Olive popped another piece of ham into her mouth and licked her fingertips clean before turning back to the mirror at her vanity table.
Last night she'd soaked and scrubbed at her hands and feet for half and hour before she was satisfied they revealed no trace of the catacomb muck she'd been through the day before. Upon waking this morning, she'd inspected her best gown carefully, stitched up a tear in the lace, and rubbed away a spot of extra spicy mustard before she slipped it over her head. Now she brushed her auburn hair until it gleamed and every stray bit of straw had been removed.
With a disgusted crinkle of her nose, the halfling rummaged through the pile of dirty, smelly clothing at the foot of her bed until she had fished out her quilted vest. Holding the vest on her lap, she turned out an inner pocket and unclasped the pin fastened there for security.
The pin, a miniature harp and crescent moon, had been a gift from the Nameless Bard-Finder Wyvernspur, Olive reminded herself. Tossing the vest aside, she reached for the jar of silver polish she'd borrowed from the larder. She removed every trace of tarnish from the jewelry and buffed it to a brilliant luster. Finally, taking a deep breath, Olive pinned it to her dress, right over her heart.
She had never actually displayed the Harper's symbol before, which some people would have found remarkable, considering the potential for exploitation the pin presented her. Though little was known of the Harpers, rumors regarding their power and good works were widespread enough that their symbol of membership could gain a person instant respect-though not necessarily safety.
Olive understood, however, that possession of the symbol alone did not make her a Harper, even if another Harper, Nameless, had given it to her. Nameless was a renegade, after all. Olive was shrewd enough to realize that another Harper might not look favorably on someone impersonating one of their number, and the farther north she traveled, the greater the likelihood that she would run into a real Harper. So, even though it lent credence to her claim of bardhood-since most Harpers were either bards or rangers-common sense outweighed ego and she had always kept it hidden.
Until now. This is an emergency, Olive thought, and no snooty, goody-goody Harper is going to keep me from seeing justice