Rogue Legacy by Jeffrey L. Kohanek (classic reads .txt) đź“–
- Author: Jeffrey L. Kohanek
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“Come on,” Lyra crooned. “It’s okay.”
The scruffy stray pulled on the rope, clawing and scrambling backward across the newly installed courtyard tiles, attempting to tow Lyra as well. Some of the dogs she had gathered were easier than others. This one fell into the latter camp. After a brief struggle, Lyra sighed and peered across the yard to confirm the gate was latched shut.
“Fine. You win.”
She pulled herself toward the dog, working her hands down the length of the leash and loosening the knot before sliding the loop off the dog’s head. As soon as he was free, the dog darted across the yard, slowing to sniff here and there. Another dog lying in the shade at the far end of the yard sat up, taking notice. The massive dog climbed to his feet as three others did the same, all four running toward the newcomer. Dwarfed in size by the approaching magic-infused dogs, the new stray scurried away and ran past Lyra, into the courtyard and up to the closed door. He danced about, shifting this way and that, frantic to enter the safety of the building.
“Sure,” Lyra grumbled as she scrambled to open the door. “Now, you want to come in.”
The moment the door opened, the dog shot inside and Lyra followed, turning to find the four pursuing dogs barreling into the courtyard, the narrow doorway forcing them to enter in single file. She hurriedly closed the door before Balbo’s huge nose squeezed into the gap.
Lyra turned to find the new stray backed into a corner, the whites of his eyes showing as Gilo and Striah loomed over him. Gilo’s brindle coat had darkened and was now completely black. Likewise, Striah’s coat was growing darker, likely a side effect of the magic.
The two massive dogs nudged the normal-sized dog with their noses as they tried to sniff him, pushing the poor thing around the room as if he weighed nothing. Lyra frowned when she noticed the wet spot beneath the new dog. With a sigh, she headed toward the kitchen to get a rag.
As she entered the kitchen, Cal emerged from the hallway.
“You’re back from the city,” he noted.
“You’re amazing,” she replied. “Did you use magic to determine that?”
Cal chuckled. “Not this time.” His attention shifted to the dogs in the neighboring room. “You found another one.”
Lyra dunked the rag into a cool bucket of water and began to wring it out. “Yes. I almost had two of them, but one got away. This one is skittish and was hard enough to leash on his own.”
She crossed into the other room and pushed Gilo aside, barely able to move the dog. “Go on, Gilo. Give him some space.” She swatted Striah to get her attention. “You too. Leave him be.”
The two oversized dogs retreated as she bent to clean the urine. The small dog panted nervously, his eyes bulging as they followed the departing dogs.
Cal walked past and sat on the couch. “If you can get a few more for me, I think we’ll have a meaningful sample size. Twelve would be ideal, but ten dogs will do.”
Lyra finished cleaning the floor and gave the dog a friendly pat. “Skittle. I think I’ll call him Skittle.”
Cal didn’t say anything. He didn’t seem to care what they were called and allowed Lyra to name all except Gilo.
Lyra stood and turned toward Cal. “It’s been two months now. You agreed I could leave after three. You’ll still honor that, right?”
“What?” Cal asked, his mind clearly elsewhere. “Um…Yes. Of course. One more month, and you’re free to leave.”
At that moment, Striah climbed on the sofa and lay down with her upper body on Cal’s lap.
“Oof!” Cal coughed and gasped for air under the weight of the massive dog.
Lyra burst out laughing at the sight of a dog larger than Cal attempting to sit on his lap. Somehow, amidst the laughter, Lyra was able to squeeze out a sentence.
“She still thinks she’s a lapdog.”
Rather than help Cal, Lyra laughed harder when he tried to escape Striah’s oversized tongue. Pinned against the sofa, he could do little to prevent the dog from affectionately slobbering across his entire face.
Lyra opened the gate as quietly as possible and peered inside for signs of movement. Finding nothing between her and the courtyard but long grass, she opened the gate fully and stepped inside, careful not to snag her overloaded floating pack on the gate latch. She pushed the door shut and the latch clicked. The sound made her wince, and she turned toward the canines who slept in the shade cast by the shed.
Numerous heads rose up to turn her way. With a yelp, she ran as ten massive dogs scrambled to their feet and hurried to follow.
Lyra darted into the courtyard and slowed as she reached the door. She opened it and jumped through, pulling it behind her as the dogs came flooding into the courtyard.
A loud thump sounded as the weight of a dog hit the door. Dogs barked beyond the wooden barrier, some snarling as they fought each other. Lyra rested her head against the door and closed her eyes until the ruckus outside grew quiet.
“Did you get everything?”
She turned to find Cal leaning against the kitchen entry with his arms and legs crossed.
Lyra nodded. “Yes. Some for us, but most is for them.”
“They’re big dogs and they eat a lot. “ Cal grinned. “It takes a big dog to weigh a ton.”
“What?”
He shrugged, still smiling. “It’s just something my father used to say. I always thought it was funny.”
Lyra shook her head and slid one arm from the pack, followed by the other. “Well, with the way they eat, it looks like I’ll have to travel to the city two or three times a week now.” She handed the pack to Cal. “I also picked up your item from the artisan on Meldy Street. I put it near the top, wrapped in the black cloth.”
His face lit up. “Wonderful.”
Cal carried the pack to the table, set it down, and began pulling items out. He removed the item wrapped in black cloth, easing it from the loaded pack. His eyes flicked toward Lyra and he bit his lip. Finally, he nodded and began to unravel the cloth.
As the material unwound from his prize, it began to take shape. About two feet long and wider at one end than the other, Lyra found the shape vaguely familiar. As he revealed the object, she found herself enthralled, eager to discover what Cal had purchased. When the cloth fell away, Lyra gasped.
Cal held it before him, grinning as he inspected the work of art. He pulled it to his chest and gave it a strum, the silky chords ringing about the room. Both Gilo and Striah lifted their heads, their ears perking up at the sound.
Extending his arms toward Lyra, Cal nodded.
“Here, Tali. This is for you.”
Lyra stared at the beautifully crafted instrument, torn between eagerness and hesitancy. “What? What is this for?”
He shrugged. “Your voice is so compelling; it deserves something beautiful to accompany it.” He looked down at the lute. “I found the most renowned instrument maker in Sol Polis and paid a handsome price for this beauty.”
He held the lute toward Lyra. She eyed it for a moment as emotion stirred within. Tentatively, she reached for it, gripping it with care as she brought it to her chest. The red tinted wood was polished, and the body of the lute was slightly bigger than her father’s, yet crafted by a far superior artisan. With fifteen strings set in eight courses, the design was immediately familiar to Lyra. One hand slid up the neck, while the other gave the strings one even strum. Lyra frowned and picked at the middle strings until she found the one that was out of tune. She continued to pluck at the string, twisting the tuning knob, until the note sounded exactly right. Taking a deep breath to clear her mind, she began to play.
With closed eyes, Lyra’s fingers danced across the frets while the other hand stroked the strings. The full body of the sound sang to Lyra’s soul, lifting her spirits like a bird on an updraft, soaring ever higher. She gave herself to the music and added her voice in a wordless aria. How long she played, she couldn’t tell, for she was lost to the music.
When she strummed the last note and opened her eyes, she found Cal staring at her, the wet tracks of tears glistening on his cheeks. Lyra lowered the lute and looked down at it, struggling to keep her emotions in check.
“Thank you, Cal.” She bit her lip, trying to keep her tears at bay. “I’ll cherish it always.”
“What?” Cal shook his head and wiped his eyes. “Oh. Sorry, but I need it back.”
“But…but I thought you gave it to me.”
“Don’t worry. The lute is yours to keep. I just need it for a bit. I need to add a little magic, magic to match your voice.”
Lyra reluctantly held the lute out. He accepted it and turned to retreat to his room, leaving Lyra by herself with
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