Taking Flight (Legends of Ethshar)
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The girl had wings! Kelder needed to learn what she truly was before she destroyed him. What he would learn, and where he would go, would makes its mark on the destiny of Ethshar.
picture on the sign, but Irith assured him this was the right place. Dinner was cold and greasy, and the only room left was a garret where Kelder was unable to stand upright without hitting his head on the tie-beams. The innkeeper was apologetic. "We weren't expecting anyone so late," he said. "At least they weren't completely full," Asha said sleepily, before toppling onto the down pillow the innkeeper had found to serve as her mattress. That left Irith and Kelder sitting on the two straw
finding now that he was not really all that sleepy yet. A snore sounded, and Kelder uncurled enough to peer over his shoulder. Darkness was descending, the sun down and the lesser moon still low in the east, the greater moon not due up for an hour or more; the little party had not bothered to build a fire. All Kelder could see of Ezdral was a shadowy lump. He could hear him plainly enough, though; the old drunkard was snoring steadily and loudly. "He's asleep," Asha said in a conversational
inside, hauled him up the stairs, and dumped him unceremoniously on the little rag rug in their rented room. He had slept the night through without complaint. Fortunately, his snoring had not been constant, so that the others were able to sleep, as well. Now he smacked his lips noisily, wheezed slightly, and then blinked. His eyes opened, widened, and then closed again. His hoarse breath stopped for a moment. He made a guttural noise and brought one clawed hand up to wipe at his gummy eyes.
"Either that, or they were trying to insult you." "Why?" "Because," she said, her tone turning sarcastic, "you probably don't qualify for the job." "Why not?" "Senesson isn't looking for workers," she explained, "he's buying materials." "What materials?" Kelder asked, still puzzled. "Virgin's blood," the girl said angrily. Kelder blinked and looked the girl over. She was roughly his own age, he guessed, despite her diminutive stature; she had long black hair that flowed down across her
because it wasn't Krithimion on the other side of the glass at all, it was someplace where waves were smashing against black rocks at the foot of a high, curving cliff and ancient, crooked buildings of rough stone stood atop it; the window seemed to be somewhere on the clifftop, looking along the rim, with the sea to the left and the buildings to the right. That was mighty magic, he was fairly certain. "As long as we're here," Irith said, rising, "Kelder and I are a little short of money just