The Guild of the Cowry Catchers, Book 1: Embers, Deluxe Illustrated Edition

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The Guild of the Cowry Catchers, Book 1: Embers, Deluxe Illustrated Edition Page 17

by Abigail Hilton


  But he kept walking up and down the streets. Once or twice, he thought someone was following him, but when he turned to confront the culprits, they disappeared. Gerard wished he’d brought Alsair. He was just thinking that he really should go back to the ship when he saw a shadow drop from the roof of a building and duck into a stairwell. The shape had been black without a hint of white, but the profile had seemed familiar. Gerard picked up his pace and almost ran to the spot where the shadow had vanished.

  Gerard peered into the recess of the alcove. At first he saw nothing but then he thought he saw a shape huddled in the far corner. “Silveo?”

  Nothing. Gerard wondered whether his straining eyes had deceived him. He also thought that if it really was Silveo and he was frightened, he might try to kill any intruder. Gerard would make an easy target, outlined against the lantern light from the street.

  Still, he came on into the small space. He crouched down a few paces from whatever was huddled in the corner. The creature opened its eyes, and Gerard saw the light reflected off them—pale blue. He gave a sigh of relief. “Silveo. What happened to you?”

  Silveo coughed. “Gerard,” he grated with every sign of annoyance. “I would have thought you’d have taken over the Fang and sailed for Maijha Minor by now.”

  Surely you know me better than that. Watching him, Gerard guessed two things: he was unarmed and hurt. Gerard doubted that Silveo trusted anyone under those circumstances.

  “I’ve been looking through these shops all day,” said Gerard. “I thought my friend might have gotten himself into trouble.”

  Silveo closed his eyes. “Then you’d better go find him.”

  “Can you walk?”

  “Of course, I can walk,” said Silveo without moving.

  “What can I do to help?”

  “You can shut up and go back to the Fang,” snarled Silveo, pulling himself up against the wall.

  Gerard said nothing.

  “The correct answer, Gerard, is ‘Yes, sir.’”

  “Yes, sir,” said Gerard and waited.

  Silveo stood there for a moment and caught his breath. Finally, he turned a little unsteadily and made his way out of the alcove, one hand on the wall. Gerard stood to let him pass and then came out behind him. He realized then why Silveo was black. He was covered in soot.

  “Were you up a chimney?” asked Gerard.

  “No,” he snapped, “I thought if a little kohl is good, why not bathe in it?”

  They proceeded for a distance in silence. Periodically Silveo would stop and crouch down against the side of a building. Gerard watched to make sure they were not attacked. The third time it happened, he heard a soft whimper.

  “Silveo, what’s wrong? Please, let me help.”

  Silveo shook his head. He got to his feet again, carefully, as though he were treading on shards of glass. “Thirsty,” he said softly.

  Gerard handed him his half-empty water skin. Silveo drank it as though he’d never seen water before and then sat down on a doorstep. He buried his face in his arms and rocked back and forth. Finally, he raised his head, his pale eyes almost white in the moonlight. “Gerard, you should not have come looking for me.”

  Gerard sat down beside him. “You’re probably right. You usually are. Do you want me to find some more water?”

  Silveo shook his head. “I’m going to say this slowly so that you can follow along: don’t trust me. Please.”

  “Are we back to this again?”

  “Yes!” Silveo seemed to be searching for words. “I have been living with myself for quite a while, and I know me better than you do.”

  Gerard flicked his tail—an impatient, cat-like gesture. “Oh, so you have some plan to dispose of me? Been working on it, have you?”

  “No! I don’t. But I’ve killed shelts before whom I liked because they were in my way or I thought they jeopardized my survival. I survive, Gerard; that’s what I do.”

  “And you’re doing such a good job of it this evening.”

  Silveo ignored that. “You are just not vicious enough to do the job you’ve been hired for. The Priestess is…” He bit back whatever he’d been going to say. “There is still time. Take Thessalyn and get out of here. Go anywhere—out of Wefrivain, to the Lawless Lands, to the Pendalons—away from her, away from me.”

  Gerard crouched down in front of him. “Silveo, you’re tired. You’re hungry. And no matter what you say, I think you’re hurt. You’re babbling, and that’s really not like you.”

  Silveo looked at him, then gave a great sigh. He started to say something else and then didn’t.

  “At this pace, we’ll be all night getting back to the ship,” continued Gerard. “I think whoever tried to kill you may still be looking. If you would let me carry you, we could cover ground a lot faster.”

  The idea was practical, and Silveo was pragmatic if he was anything. Still, he had a collection of very impractical phobias. On impulse, Gerard reached into his boot and pulled out the throwing knife. He handed it to Silveo. “There. You’re armed. You’re not helpless. You can stab me if you need to. Now will you let me pick you up?”

  Silveo looked at the knife. For one second, Gerard thought he might actually cry. “I’ll ruin your coat,” he said faintly.

  You would think of the coat! Gerard bent forward and scooped him up. Silveo trembled once and then he was still. Gerard shifted him so that Silveo’s head was against his shoulder. It was like carrying Alsair as a cub; he weighed less than Thessalyn. Gerard had to loop his tail over one arm to keep it from dragging. Then he started off at a brisk pace.

  “Don’t carry me onto the ship,” whispered Silveo.

  “I won’t.” Silveo might lose respect with the sailors if they thought Gerard had gone out and rescued him. It wouldn’t even be true. I’m almost sure he would have made it back without me.

  “Poisoned,” said Silveo after a moment. “Muscles keep cramping.”

  “I figured. You’re not bleeding, though?”

  Silveo shook his head.

  They walked for a long time in silence, and at last Gerard realized that he’d gone to sleep. Do you feel safe now, Silveo? Every now and then, he’d twitch and whimper, but he never really woke until they were back to the docks. Gerard considered wrapping Silveo in his coat and carrying him onto the ship that way, but he knew the sailors would figure that out unless he was very lucky about who was on duty.

  While he was trying to decide, Silveo stirred and raised his head. He sniffed the air. “Put me down, Gerard.”

  Gerard did, but he thought for a moment Silveo wouldn’t let go of him. Then Silveo straightened up and walked away. Gerard peered around the side of the building. Silveo didn’t flinch or crouch as he approached the Fang, and he called a greeting in a normal voice to the sailor on watch. He must have made a joke as he came up the gangplank, because Gerard heard the sailor laugh—a relieved sound.

  Gerard waited a quarter watch. He took his coat off so that no one would see the soot on it and then went aboard just before dawn. Later, he would remember the incident as the last time Silveo tried to warn him, and he wished bitterly that he had listened.

  THE END

  This story is continued in The Guild of the Cowry Catchers, Book 2: Flames. Check your electronic bookstore or the website at www.cowrycatchers.com for details. The fullcast audio production of the whole story is available for free on the website and in iTunes, along with color versions of some illustrations. In addition, extra short stories and other premium content can be purchased in the online store. Discuss the story and network with other fans on the Forums. Paid content helps me finance the many aspects of these projects that remain free. Thank you so much for your support!

  If you are enjoying Cowry Catchers, check out Abbie’s other projects. The Prophet of Panamindorah is another series set in the Cowry Catcher’s universe. Search for it in your eBookstore or find the free audio in iTunes.

  About the Author

  Abigail Hilton is
a nurse anesthetist who lives in Florida with three cats and a variety of carnivorous plants. She has spent time in veterinary school and done graduate work in literature. She currently keeps people alive and comfortable during vivisection (AKA surgery). Really, it doesn’t get more magical than that. You can find her short fiction in GUD, The Drabblecast, The Dunesteef, and other venues both audio and text. You can connect with Abbie personally on Facebook or Twitter.

  Artists

  Sarah (Rah) Cloutier is a graduate student at the Pacific Northwest College of Art. She has been working on illustrations for Cowry Catchers since 2007. Her illustrations in this book are: Not as beautiful as you, Sing to me, Are you threatening me? (which is also the cover), Do you want an apology?, Almost rid of me, Shocking and offensive, Carry you. You can view more of her amazing work on her Deviant Art page.

  GreenSprite is a Romanian artist and student who has been creating illustrations for Cowry Catchers since mid-2009. Her illustrations in this book are: All the character portraits, Pretty things, Maps and an island, Picnic, Slap. Her beautiful work can also be found on Deviant Art.

  The maps and cover design were created by Jeff McDowall, a graphic artist living in Orlando, Florida. Jeff has been beta reading for Abbie’s books since they were both teenagers. You can find more about him and his work on his website.

  Kirgetova Tatiana is a Russian artist and she created this image specifically for this eBook. Her illustration in this book is: Real conversation. Her luminous work can also be found on Deviant Art.

  Jason Kivela is a graphic artist and book designer living in Madison, Wisconsin. He helped with the layout for this book. Without Jason, Cowry Catchers wouldn’t look so pretty. Find out more about him and his work at his website.

  Glossary

  blue month: one cycle of blue moon, usually 30 to 90 days.

  canid: any creature in the canine family, either two-legged or four-legged, including canine-type shelts, such as foxlings.

  cowry catchers: manatee shelts.

  fauns: shelts with hooves.

  felid: any creature in the cat family, either two-legged or four-legged, including cat-type shelts, such as grishnards.

  nauns: shelts with neither hooves nor paws, e.g. manatee shelts and seal shelts.

  panauns: shelts with paws.

  red month: one cycle of red moon, about 60 days.

  shelt: a two-legged creature having a humanoid body from the waist up and resembling some kind of animal from the waist down. Shelts have pointed, tufted ears.

  watch: a period of time approximately four hours long. Shelts count four watches for the day and two watches for the night.

  yellow month: one cycle of yellow moon, about 15 days.

  Shelt species of Wefrivain

  Panauns

  grishnards – griffin shelts

  ocelons – ocelot shelts

  leopons – leopard shelts

  leons – lion shelts

  foxlings – fox shelts

  hunti – hyena shelts

  Fauns

  shavier – pegasus shelts

  zeds – zebra shelts

  gazumelle – gazelle shelts

  Nauns

  cowry catchers – manatee shelts

  selkies – seal shelts

 

 

 


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