The Will of the Empress - By Tamora Pierce Page 0,78

never been treated to one of Tris's rain protections before. For some time they rode under her invisible shield in silence, with frequent glances overhead at the rain that streamed away from three feet above.

"It's quite safe," Sandry told them, trying to make them feel better. "She can do it over an entire Trader caravan and still read without losing control over it."

Tris, crimson-cheeked, shot a glare at Sandry and continued to read. Ambros finally drifted over to Sandry's side. "I'd get sick to my stomach doing that," he told Sandry in a murmur. "I can't read in carriages or ships, for that matter."

"I think if Tris got sick she wouldn't even notice," Sandry replied. "Look at Chime." The glass dragon flew in and out of Tris's magical shield as if it were no barrier at all, sprinkling rain droplets all over the members of their small group. "She's having fun," Sandry added with a grin. She looked at Ambros. His blue eyes followed the little dragon. Chime gleamed rainbow colours in the morning's subdued light. She spun and twirled as if she were a giddy child at play. There was a smile on Ambros's lips and a glow in his eyes.

He's not such a dry stick after all, thought Sandry, startled. You just have to catch him being human.

Suddenly she felt better about this man who so often reminded her of her obligations. She had been seeing him as a taskmaster. Maybe if I tried treating him as family, he might warm up to me, she thought. She fiddled with an amber eardrop, then asked him, "Did you know my mother's father at all?"

He was willing to talk of their relatives, and proved himself to be a good storyteller. Sandry was laughing as they rode over one last ridge and down into the valley that cushioned the village of Pofkim. Startled by what lay before her, she reined up. Now she understood why flooding had hurt the place so badly. It was all bunched in the smallest of hollows, huddled on either side of a narrow, brisk river that churned in its channel in the ground. "Were they mad, to build it here?" she asked her cousin.

Ambros shook his head. "You can't see them, but the clay pits are in the hills on the far side of the river. They need to be close to the water to transport the clay. They can't get enough of it out by horseback to make it worth the expense, but people in Dancruan are eager to line up at the wharves to bid on loads. They make very good pottery with it in the city. And goats and mules find plenty to graze here, but the footing's too steep for cows and the growth too scanty for sheep."

Sandry looked the village over. Now she saw the flood marks on the lone bridge over the river and on the walls of the buildings. Here and there were houses that had collapsed in on themselves. The outside walls of several homes were braced with wooden poles.

"If the wells are bad here, how can they put down new ones that won't be bad, either?" she asked.

"The one well they've been able to sink is higher up. They built a makeshift aqueduct to carry the water to the village, but a good wind knocks it over. With money they can sink new wells up where the water is good, and build stone channels to bring it to the village." Ambros sighed. "I'd wanted to do that this year, but..."

Sandry scowled. Was there no end to the repairs her family's lands required? "Sell the emeralds my mother left to me, if we haven't the cash," she said briskly. "They aren't bound to the inheritance. I can sell them, if I like. If you can't get more than enough money for them to fix all this, you aren't the bargainer I take you for, Cousin."

"Are you sure?" he asked as they entered the outskirts of the village. "Won't you want them to wear, or to pass on?"

"The need is here. And I'm not much of a one for jewellery," Sandry replied as people came out of their homes.

"Oh, splendid," she heard Tris murmur. "The bowing and scraping begins."

Sandry sighed windily and glared at the other girl. "Let loose a lightning bolt or two," she snapped. "That should put a stop to it, if you dislike it that much."

"Instead, they'll fall on their faces in the mud," Ambros said