Total pages in book: 204
Estimated words: 193124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 966(@200wpm)___ 772(@250wpm)___ 644(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 193124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 966(@200wpm)___ 772(@250wpm)___ 644(@300wpm)
She glances up at the driver, who’s stationed on top. It’s Emma, her twin, who motions for her to get in—yet still, she remains frozen.
Aware that there’s now a crowd around us, I clear my throat. “Would you prefer to ride with me—”
I barely get the offer out before Lalah scurries over to Lavante. There’s a chuckle as Thale shuts himself and his women in together, and then a pounding on the carriage roof. With a snap of the reins and a smile to both of us, Emma sets them off.
Putting my foot in the stirrup, I saddle up, and then Lalah does the same, pushing a toehold in where my slipper was and hopping high. There is more than enough room for the both of us in the cradle—a good thing, because with my supplies and clothes secured where I once sat, there’d be no way to accommodate anyone behind me.
Merc waits until I give Lavante the go-ahead before spurring his own steed on, and we must canter off to catch up to the stagecoach. It turns out that his horse is better as a follower than a leader and now regularly keeps up, whereas when Merc was on his own, he had to constantly urge the gelding forth. Still, I feel the need to check on them—
There’s a parade in our wake.
As we head out of the Outpost, all kinds of townsfolk gather their horses and their carts and fall in with the procession. How they have scrambled so fast is a surprise—then again, given where they live, they’re no doubt prepared for all sorts of eventualities.
Seeing them snake along the road makes me anxious.
What started as a possible solution has turned into a spectacle, and everything’s resting on my silly idea.
“Are you okay back there?” I ask Lalah.
“Oh, yes. My sister and I used to do this bareback.”
The trip through the meadow is a blur, and as the rushing of the floodwaters grows louder, and we approach the branch in the travel road, I find myself terrified that the grasses and trees will bow to me again.
Fortunately, nothing unusual occurs. And I can explain that no more readily than I can explain what happened before.
When we close in on the cliffs, and then are closed in by the cliffs, our speed slows and the cacophony of so many people and horses and carriages in the narrow passages creates a din. After what seems like no time at all, we cram into what previously seemed to be a sizable clearing, with people wedging themselves tight for a view of the Crystal Gate.
“You dismount first,” I say to Lalah.
But she’s already slipping off and taking the reins to hold Lavante.
Merc is also already boots-on-the-ground, and when Lalah offers him her hand, he gives his horse over to her as well.
I shake my head. “No, Lalah, we need you, too—”
“So!” Thale’s voice ushers in a silence so quick, so complete, it’s as if no one was talking at all. “It’s time to see what you want to do with these beautiful women.”
The smile he gives me is indulgent. The look he gives Merc is self-satisfied, as if needling the other man’s obvious hatred of him is such a bonus to the adventure.
“And if you are wrong,” Thale continues, “no matter. I have enjoyed my time with … dear friends.”
The black-haired woman dabs at the corners of her mouth with her fingertips, then licks her lips as if she’s tasted something she enjoyed. Next to her, Bethle laughs in a throaty fashion and leans into Thale, draping her arm on his shoulder.
“What would you like us to do,” she asks me with a bold smile.
I clear my throat. “I would like you to sing.”
As the women frown, Thale cracks a laugh. “Though I have many abilities—” The ladies offer an affirmative chuckle at that. “—I’m afraid carrying a tune is not among them.”
“Not you.” I nod to his working women. “The ladies. Please.”
As a twin set of surprise comes back at me, I indicate the barrier. “You have strong, high voices. I believe that if you get the pitch up enough, the vibration will—”
Conversation explodes around me, people laughing and shaking their heads. Even Thale, who’s been readily enough going along with this, gives the idea a hearty shout of mirth.
“Like with a glass.” I speak louder. “Haven’t you seen someone sing and break a glass before?”
“There are many broken glasses at my establishment,” Thale counters, “but such a note has never been the cause of such a shatter.”
“Please.” I glance back at Merc, who’s frowning at me. Then I refocus on the women. “I heard you singing together the first day I came into the pub. You have pure, soprano voices, and I think the acoustics will help amplify them—”
Thale bends down and picks up a palmful of musket balls. “All these projectiles, over all these years? And you think song will do what these have not.”