Читать книгу A Tale of Two Dragons - G.A. Aiken - Страница 10

Chapter 6

Braith opened her eyes and screamed at what hovered above her, “Gods! Death comes for me!”

The horrifying face of death curled its lip at her and growled, “Well, that’s charmin’.” Death sat back in its chair, hands resting on its knees. “This face is not me fault, ya know?” Death looked off, thought a moment. Its finger traced one of the deep gouges across its jaw. “This one actually is kind of me fault.” She pointed at the other side of her face, where part of her chin was missing. “And this one. A bit of barney at the pub.”

Braith studied the beast sitting next to her bed. There were so many scars on that face and neck. Gouges. One eye was crystal blue, but the other was a milky white and grey. But that was the eye she felt saw beyond scale and flesh to soul . . . so that it could steal it right from the body.

“What are you?”

That milky white and grey eye quickly locked on Braith, the blue one slowly coming along for the ride, sizing her up. “Don’t you mean who am I?”

“No.”

Those disturbing eyes narrowed and that damaged top lip curled. But before further words were spoken, the bedroom door pushed open and Addolgar—that idiot!—rushed in.

“What’s going on?”

“She asked me what am I.”

Addolgar’s brown eyes widened in what appeared to be panic.

“I’m sure she didn’t mean that,” he said quickly. “It was . . . it was the hit on her head,” he offered, nodding desperately at Braith. “She’s mad from that. You should ignore her.”

Death growled a bit, then stood. “I’ll be downstairs with your father,” it told him as it slowly made its way across the room. “Sort this out, boy. The Cadwaladrs don’t need anyone’s problems but their own. Understand?”

“I do.”

“Good.”

Death walked out of the room, slamming the door behind it and Addolgar let out a breath, shoulders slumping, arms hanging down.

“What the hells was that thing?” Braith demanded. “Why are you sending death to my room?”

Addolgar glanced back at the door, his hands lifting, indicating for her to keep her voice down. “That was not death,” he whispered. “That was our Great-Aunt Brigida.”

“Brigida? Brigida the Foul?” He nodded. “I thought she was dead.”

Addolgar shook his head and whispered, “She just won’t die.”

“I heard that, boy!” Brigida’s voice rang down the hall, and Addolgar’s pale human face turned paler. Braith did find it disturbing someone that old could hear a whispered comment behind a thick wooden door, but honestly, at the moment, Braith had other issues to deal with.

“Addolgar?”

He looked up at her, tried to smile. “Aye?”

She lifted her hands. “What are these?”

“Chains.”

“Why am I wearing them?”

“To protect you from yourself.” He seemed to calm down, his uncomfortable smile turning bright and cheerful. “See? I’m here to take care of you!”

Braith sighed. “Addolgar the Cheerful . . . you are such an idiot.”

Addolgar walked across the room and sat on his bed. The bed that Braith of the Darkness was currently on. She looked surprisingly cute on his bed, wearing his shirt and his uncle’s chains, and sporting that big lump on her forehead.