She pulled. Her cloak tore with a horrible rending sound. The guard squeaked in surprise, but Morgan didn't stay to apologize. She bolted down the passageway after Miach.
She took the time to get her bearings, lest Miach lose them both and they not be able to find the front door again, then she continued to follow him. Perhaps his spell was better than she thought, for even though she could still see him, he passed by other souls without them marking him. They didn't look at her either, but she knew her spell was working. Her experiences with the brush in the barn told her that much.
Miach paused several times, as if he wasn't quite sure where he was going. He even scratched his head a time or two in a fashion that was so reminiscent of Adhémar, she almost snorted.
There were many turns and twists, however, and she came to a point where she stopped blaming Miach for his head scratching. She was completely turned about and wondered if she would ever escape the palace without aid.
It seemed like forever that she wandered the halls behind him, but in the end he stopped, looked about him, then opened a door and disappeared through it.
Morgan followed quickly and only caught herself before she fell down the steep steps because she was lucky. She was almost certain she had squawked in surprise, but Miach didn't stop his descent so perhaps she had imagined that. That she couldn't tell was a little unnerving.
She was beginning to suspect she needed a nap.
The steps seemed to descend into the very bowels of the palace. The passageway wasn't overly damp, but it was very cold. She drew her cloak about her, grateful she'd managed to pull it free of the front door.
The stairs ended eventually and Miach came to a stop before a doorway. He opened it and a weak light spilled out. She hung back in the shadows and waited until Miach had gone inside. Luck was with her again for he left the door open behind him. Morgan slipped into the chamber, but just barely. She clapped her hand over her mouth and flattened herself against the wall as Miach reached around her to shut the door. He was so close, she could feel his breath upon her hair.
But he said nothing. He only turned, dropped his pack onto a table, then began to poke about what she could now see was a library. Morgan found herself a chair and silently took off her pack and set it down on the floor beside her. She watched Miach as he perused manuscripts, much as she had done at Lismòr, though with far less fervor than she had used. If he was curious about something, he was certainly being nonchalant about it all.
Finally, he chose a pair of very dusty books and carried them over to the table. He fetched a pair of candles, lit them, sat down, and began to read.
Morgan watched.
In time, she felt her eyelids begin to grow heavy. She fought the relentless march of weariness, but in the end she lost the battle. She started to sleep. She feared she might drool. She knew she had snorted.
She knew this because she snorted herself awake.
She clapped her hand over her mouth, wondering if she'd given herself away. She looked quickly at Miach, but found that she needn't have worried. He was sound asleep with his head down on one of the manuscripts, his face turned toward her, making snorts of his own.
He was also drooling.
Master Dominicus would have had his head for that.
Well, at least his snoring covered up what was a tremendous growl from her stomach. She put her hand over her quite empty belly and willed it to be quiet. Perhaps Miach would grow hungry as well and go oft to seek something to eat so she could be about her own business.
She folded her arms over her chest and frowned at him, willing him to wake.
Chapter Fifteen
Miach suppressed a smile at the horrendous noises Morgan's stomach was making. He did his best to continue to snore, but he suspected she might not believe him for much longer. It had been a very long night and most of a very long morning. He wondered if the rest of the day would move as slowly. Hopefully not, for Morgan's sake.
He was quite impressed by her ability to track him, especially since he'd cast his own spell of invisibility over himself. That she could apparently see through it was astonishing.
Why had she chosen to follow him? Was she afraid he would get lost? Had Adhémar sent her after him?
He immediately dismissed the last. She wouldn't have done Adhémar's fetching for him. If anything, Adhémar could have asked and she would have said nay just to spite him. No doubt she had reasons of her own. Perhaps he would discover those in time. For now, it was enough to enjoy having Morgan and Chagailt together in one locale.
Chagailt was, as it happened, one of his favorite places. It had once been the center of Neroche, both governmentally and culturally. That had changed when Gilraehen the Fey had been king, courtesy of a particularly nasty battle with Lothar. The capital had been moved to Tor Neroche, which had once been the king's hunting lodge. Tor Neroche had been rebuilt in the ensuing years and fortified with magic that began at the foundations, rose to the tops of the towers, and left it impervious to all assaults. It was a safe place, but rather uninspiring when it came to the surrounding countryside.
The palace of Chagailt, on the other hand, was in a beautiful part of the country where it rained a great deal and everything was green. Flowers bloomed effortlessly, gardens grew enthusiastically, and trees were so thick that at times they were troublesome to the inhabitants of the area. The palace itself held a special place in Miach's heart. He had passed several summers here with his mother, tending the gardens, tending his magic. Adhémar didn't like it; he said it rained too much. Miach found the weather rather to his liking. There was something quite spectacular about seeing the sun, finally, after weeks of solid rain.
All of which didn't matter at present except that it was set to rain outside and he had come back to a place he knew as well as he knew Tor Neroche. It was magnificent still, in spite of the fact that it had been relegated to mere summer home status.
And Morgan was there with him.
Unnoticed in the corner, for the moment.
Miach sat up and rubbed his arms. Though there was light from the candles, that light did nothing to warm the chamber. Miach turned and kindled a fire in the hearth by mostly normal means. Once that was burning cheerily, he lit more candles and put them on the table.
