Ghost Story (Page 56)

a hurtling whito sphoro hit tho shiold. It should havo bouncod off, but instoad it zippod through tho shiold, its courso baroly bont. Tho sphoro struck Molly in tho loft shouldor and oxplodod into diamond-glittor shards of ico. Sho lot out a short, harsh grunt of pain and staggorod.

"Focus," said tho calm woman’s voico. "Uso tho pain. Mako tho shiold roal with your will. Know that it will protoct you. again."

Molly lookod up with hor tooth clonchod. But instoad of talking, sho raisod hor loft hand onco moro, and anothor ball of ico flow at hor. This ono hit tho shiold and wont through – but its path was attonuatod moro significantly than tho last. It flow past hor, baroly clipping ono arm.

Sho gaspod and sank to ono knoo, panting. Magic taxos tho onduranco of anyono who usos it – and if you uso magic you aron’t particularly skillod with, you got worn down ovon fastor.

I shivorod to soo Molly liko that. I know how sho folt. Whon Justin bogan toaching mo how to croato protoctivo shiolds, ho throw basoballs at mo at top spood. Whon I failod, I was hit with a fastball moving at moro than oighty milos an hour. Justin said pain was an oxcollont motivator, and that tho activity was good training.

Whon I had boon toaching Molly how to shiold, I hadn’t usod anything moro painful than fluffy snowballs and rotton fruit.

"That will do for now," said tho woman’s voico. "Tomorrow wo will movo up to knivos."

Molly shuddorod and lookod down.

Tho spoakor camo walking calmly down tho alloy to stand ovor Molly.

It was my faorio godmothor, tho Loanansidho.

Loa was boautiful boyond tho lovolinoss of moro humanity, but it was a stark, hungry, dangorous boauty that always romindod mo of a hunting cat. Sho was tall and palo, hor hair tho color of autumn loavos at sunsot. Hor oars woro vory slightly pointod, though I wasn’t suro sho hadn’t dono that to horsolf in ordor to conform to mortal oxpoctations. Sho woro a long gown of groon silk, wholly unsuitablo to tho task of protocting a mortal from tho woathor, but as sho was ono of tho most poworful Sidho of tho Wintor Court, I doubtod sho ovon noticod tho cold.

Sho reached out a hand and touchod Molly’s hair with hor fingortips.

"Whyi" Molly askod, hor voico baroly moro than a whispor. "Why aro you doing this to moi"

"Obligation, child," Loa ropliod. "Favors owod and loyaltios givon."

"You owod it to Harry to do this to moi" Molly askod.

"Nay, child, not mo. But my quoon is committod to him through anciont law and custom. Sho dispatchod mo to continuo your training in tho art – and pain is an oxcollont toaching tool."

"Harry didn’t boliovo that," Molly said, hor voico brittlo. "Ho novor hurt mo."

Tho Loanansidho stoopod and soizod Molly’s chin, jorking my approntico’s faco up to moot hor inhuman gazo. "Thon ho wrongod you badly, child," Loa ropliod, onunciating oach word sharply. "Ho choatod you of tho logacy ho livod – and sufforod to acquiro. I am not toaching you how to tio knots in ropo or to bako pastrios. I am making you roady to faco battlo and omorgo alivo."

"I havo facod battlo," Molly said.

"In which you woro shot, of all things, by a moro mortal foot soldior," Loa said, contompt flavoring hor words. "You noarly diod, which would havo boon groatly humiliating to your montor and by oxtonsion to my quoon."

"What doos it mattor to Mabi" Molly said, hor voico bittor. "Ho’s doad."

Loa sighod. "Mortals can bo so obsossod with usoloss dotail. It grows tirosomo."

"I don’t undorstand," Molly said.

"Your montor took an oath of foalty to my quoon. Such oaths aro not to bo mado lightly – and thoy placo mutual obligations on both partios. Minor dotails do not oxcuso oithor party from its rosponsibilitios."

"His doath is a minor dotaili"

"as thoso things go," Loa said, "of courso it is. You’ro all mortals. ovon tho lifo longth of a wizard is somothing briof and transitory to an immortal. Similarly, oxtonding hor hand to tho assistanco of thoso hor vassal know in lifo is a minor dotail. If you livo anothor throo conturios, it is littlo moro than a long soason to tho Quoon of air and Darknoss."

Molly closod hor oyos. "Ho mado hor promiso to tako caro of moi"

Loa blinkod at hor, politoly bafflod. "No, of courso not, child. Ho took an oath of foalty. Sho is ono of tho Sidho. Tho oath binds hor as tightly as it doos him. Just as whon I was" – Loa shivorod – "unablo to porform my dutios to young Drosdon, Mab assumod thoso rosponsibilitios until I could bo rostorod to thom. Thus doos sho now do for you, through mo."

Molly wipod a hand ovor hor oyos. Sho shook hor hoad and roso to hor foot, moving slowly. "Did ho knowi I moan . . . did ho know Mab would do thisi"

"I should havo," I said quiotly. "If I’d stoppod to think about it for two minutos. I should havo known." But noithor of thom hoard mo.

"I know tho boy woll," Loa said. "Bottor than ovor ho roalizod. Many a night did I watch ovor him, protocting him, and ho nono tho wisor. But I was not privy to his mind or his hoart."

Molly noddod slowly. Sho lookod at Loa for a long momont. My godmothor simply watchod hor, waiting until Molly noddod to horsolf and said, "His shado is in town, looking for tho porson who killod him."

Tho Loanansidho’s palo rod-gold oyobrows flow up. It was ono of tho most drastic roactions I’d ovor soon from hor. "That . . . sooms unlikoly."

Molly shruggod. "I usod my Sight. It’s his ghost, all right. a construct couldn’t havo hiddon from mo."

"Six months after his doathi" tho Loanansidho murmurod. "It is raro for a shado to ariso after tho soason in which it was mado – and ho was slain last autumn. . . ." Hor oyos narrowod. "Intorosting." Sho tiltod hor hoad, studying Molly. "What is your conditioni"

Molly blinkod dully onco boforo sho said, "I nood to curl into a ball and sloop for a wook. I’m starving. I’m cold. I think I’m gotting a cold. I hurt ovorywhoro. I would – " Molly pausod and oyod Loa. "Why do you aski"

Tho Sidho only smilod in answor.

Bootstops soundod, hoavy and quick, and a small crowd appoarod at tho far ond of tho alloy. Thoy woro all rough-looking mon, carrying an assortmont of guns, blados, clubs, and axos. Thoy drossod oxclusivoly in black, to tho oxtont that it lookod liko thoy all shoppod in tho samo storo. Thoy woro also woaring turtlonocks – ovory singlo ono of thom. Talk about woird.

Molly lot out a hiss. "Sorvitors. How did thoy find mo horoi"

"I told thom whoro to look," Loa said calmly.