Storm a Brewin Eastwind Witches Cozy

Mysteries 8 1st Edition Nova Nelson

Visit to download the full and correct content document:
https://textbookfull.com/product/storm-a-brewin-eastwind-witches-cozy-mysteries-8-1
st-edition-nova-nelson/
More products digital (pdf, epub, mobi) instant
download maybe you interests ...

Death Metal Eastwind Witches Cozy Mysteries 2 1st

Edition Nova Nelson

https://textbookfull.com/product/death-metal-eastwind-witches-
cozy-mysteries-2-1st-edition-nova-nelson/

Crossing Over Easy Eastwind Witches Cozy Mysteries 1

1st Edition Nova Nelson

https://textbookfull.com/product/crossing-over-easy-eastwind-
witches-cozy-mysteries-1-1st-edition-nova-nelson/

Love Spells Trouble Eastwind Witches Cozy Mysteries 7

1st Edition Nova Nelson

https://textbookfull.com/product/love-spells-trouble-eastwind-
witches-cozy-mysteries-7-1st-edition-nova-nelson/

Dead Witch Walking Eastwind Witches Cozy Mysteries 10

1st Edition Nova Nelson

https://textbookfull.com/product/dead-witch-walking-eastwind-
witches-cozy-mysteries-10-1st-edition-nova-nelson/
Third Knock the Charm Eastwind Witches Cozy Mysteries 3
1st Edition Nova Nelson

https://textbookfull.com/product/third-knock-the-charm-eastwind-
witches-cozy-mysteries-3-1st-edition-nova-nelson/

Hallow s Faire in Love and War Eastwind Witches Cozy

Mysteries 9 1st Edition Nova Nelson

https://textbookfull.com/product/hallow-s-faire-in-love-and-war-
eastwind-witches-cozy-mysteries-9-1st-edition-nova-nelson/

Eastwind Witches 05 0 Psych Out 1st Edition Nova Nelson

https://textbookfull.com/product/eastwind-witches-05-0-psych-
out-1st-edition-nova-nelson/

Eastwind Witches 06 0 Gone Witch 1st Edition Nova

Nelson

https://textbookfull.com/product/eastwind-witches-06-0-gone-
witch-1st-edition-nova-nelson/

Eastwind Witches 11 0 Old Haunts 1st Edition Nova

Nelson

https://textbookfull.com/product/eastwind-witches-11-0-old-
haunts-1st-edition-nova-nelson/
STORM A-BREWIN’
(Eastwind Witches 8)

NOVA NELSON

FFS Media
 CONTENTS

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Epilogue

You’re Invited …
About the Author
 Chapter One

“Do you mind?” I mumbled to the ghost reading over my shoulder.

“What? It’s an interesting read,” he snapped back, but he also
gave me a little more space to study.
With Halloween only a week away, the veil was thinner than a
cobweb, and spirits popped in and out of my day, even here, at
Medium Rare. It made work even more interesting than it already
was.
As rain pounded the roof, I had the astronomy textbook that
Oliver had assigned me open on the countertop, hoping to sneak in
some of my studying after the lunch rush. I flipped to the next page.
“Hey, I wasn’t done with that!” griped the spirit.
“You know they have a copy of this at the library, right? And you
can even turn the pages yourself there.” I pulled my black cardigan
closer around my shoulders, shivering. These ghosts had no regard
for personal space, and with so many around, I’d resorted to a
sweater when I couldn’t have my overcoat, despite the heat from
the kitchen.
Of course, most of the customers couldn’t see the spirits, so I
had to keep a low profile about it. It was no secret that I was a Fifth
Wind witch and had the ability to commune with the deceased and
whatnot, but that didn’t mean the town of Eastwind was comfortable
with the fact, so I kept low-key about it.
Especially when Lot Flufferbum from the Eastwind Watch was
camping out at Medium Rare each day, watching me like a hawk.
I knew what headline he was after and it wasn’t Fifth Wind
Studies Astronomy During Shift. It was Missing Piece of Witch’s
Circle Discovered.
Ted, the town’s grim reaper, and Deputy Stu Manchester had
been spot on with their assessment that the town would be
desperately scrounging for clues as to who the fifth witch of our
newly formed circle was. Because Tanner, Donovan, Eva, and I had
been seen leaving Sheehan’s Pub together just before Eastwind’s
first complete witches circle in three hundred years was formed, it
was pretty obvious who four of the five witches were.
And because a complete circle required one of each type of
magic, it didn’t take a genius to figure out which kind of witch to
search for. Between the four of us we accounted for East Wind
(Donovan), South Wind (Eva), West Wind (Tanner), and Fifth Wind
(yours truly).
The hunt for the North Wind had been conducted mostly in
hushed gossip and sharp whispers, but that didn’t make it any less
tenacious. And leading the pack was the Watch’s most ambitious
assistant chief editor, Flufferbum himself.
I glanced up from my textbook and gave him my most charming
and innocent grin. He scowled.
I would tell him Landon Hawker was the North Wind of our circle
over my dead body. And not just because Lot was a terrible tipper.
But maybe a little bit because of that.
“Do you want me to pee on him?” asked my familiar Grim from
underneath the counter. The large black hound must have sensed
my thoughts.
“Yes, want that very much. But no, I don’t want to clean up after
you do it.”
“I could wait until he steps outside and then—”
“No,” I said, shaking a finger at him. “Bad dog.” “There’d be no
point anyway with the rain,” I added through our telepathic
connection. “He wouldn’t even notice.”
“You underestimate the pressure of my stream.”
“Or maybe you underestimate the intensity of this storm.”
“That sounds like a challenge.”
If it was, it was a challenge I didn’t want to issue. I wouldn’t put
it past Grim to know how to unload that giant tank of his with more
pressure than a fire hose.
“Maybe some other time,” I added to placate him. “I’m sure Lot
isn’t going to change his ways anytime soon.”
Tanner, who sat across the counter from me, already in his
deputy uniform ahead of his night shift, waved to get my attention.
I blinked. “Yes?”
He pointed to his coffee mug. “Mind getting an officer of the law
another cup of alertness brew?”
“Of course not.” I returned with the pot of freshly made coffee.
“Especially considering it’s the only potion I know how to make.”
“You’ll get there,” he replied encouragingly, pouring copious
amounts of sugar into his drink. “The great thing about brewing
potions is that anyone can do it. Sure, witches do it more than
anyone else, but you don’t need magic to pull it off. You just need to
follow directions and keep your intention laser focused. I mean, look
at Stella. She’s the best there is, and pixies aren’t witches.”
Stella Lytefoot was the top potion master in Eastwind. She’d
saved my hide more than once with her concoctions.
 “Ah, see?” I said. “There’s the kicker. I don’t follow directions
well.”
He shrugged. “I guess that’s why you’re the boss.” He saluted me
with his mug and a wink before taking a sip, which he immediately
spit back into the cup, having forgotten it was still scalding.
I bit my lip to keep from laughing at him and handed him a
napkin to dab his chin.
Yep, that was Tanner, the man I loved and Eastwind’s best hope
for lawful protection between the hours of 6 p.m. and 6 a.m., give or
take.
I figured that while I had the pot out, I should make a round of
refills for the handful of tables remaining. I headed for Oliver
Bridgewater and Zoe Clementine first, not because they were the
first on my path, but because someone needed to intervene on the
impending PDA.
There were a lot of useless laws in Eastwind, so the fact that it
was legal to give as strong of bedroom eyes to a person in public as
Zoe was Oliver and vice versa, well, that was beyond my
comprehension.
“Coffee?” I said, already leaning across Zoe to grab her cup and
break the intense eye contact before either could reply.
“Oh, um, thanks, Nora,” said Oliver. “How’s the studying going?”
“I would say magical, but astronomy is the opposite of magical.”
While it was interesting, I’d expected a little less science when I’d
asked Ruby to teach me about the stars.
“It’s not astrology,” he said, “that’s for sure. But you need to
know both halves of the story when it comes to the night sky. You
need to know what a comet is, and you need to know what it means
when a comet passes through the Sangretta constellation. Since I’m
not a Fifth Wind, I can only teach you the first part. Ruby has the
second handled, I’m sure.”
“Yep.” If our grueling late-night lessons were any indication, Ruby
believed that the best thing for me was to learn astrology or die
trying. I was closer to the latter than the former.
However, with the rain coming in the day before and showing no
signs of letting up in the near future, I might actually catch a break
and get to skip my astrology practicum, since the clouds would
obscure the necessary view I needed to connect with the stars.
Piquing Oliver’s nerdier interest worked like a charm, if that
charm specifically poured a bucket of cold water over him. As he
began prattling on about the doppler shift to Zoe and I saw her eyes
cross just a little, I knew my work there was done.
“Warm up?” I asked, approaching the corner booth that was
unofficially reserved for Ted.
The grim reaper paused. “Sure. What’s an eighth cup? Already
had seven.”
“That much caffeine doesn’t make you jittery?”
“Doesn’t affect me at all. I just like the taste. And it gives me a
reason to linger in the same spot all day without making everyone
too nervous. Heh.”
Did he really think a mug of hot coffee could keep him from
giving everyone the creeps? That it would somehow counteract the
crackle and pop of his skeleton every time he moved or the
mysterious black hood that obscured his face or the fact that he
carried with him a scythe and a cloud of morbidity that made
everyone keenly aware of their own mortality when they got within
spitting distance of him?
But Ted was a nice guy and I had a newfound respect for him
ever since he’d helped me banish the archetype a week before, so I
didn’t mention any of that.
“You’re here later than usual,” I said. “You usually clear out right
after lunch.”
“Yeah, well,” he said, as if that was a sufficient answer.
“Well, what? Afternoon plans canceled?”
“Oh no, not that at all. The opposite. I think I might have some
important business to attend to.”
Considering his job was to clean up after a death and then serve
as afterlife GPS to the deceased, that didn’t bode well.
“Where?” I asked, trying not to let my anxiety show.
“It could be nothing,” he said. “I get pulled toward a location
when the threat of death is looming, but it doesn’t always come to
pass. Fingers crossed. Heh.” He lifted one of his gloved hands,
crossing his fingers, which cracked dryly.
“Where, Ted?” I asked more sternly.
The reaper fidgeted in his seat. “Nearby. Not sure exactly. For all
I know, it could be the Deadwoods.”
“Not that I don’t trust you, but that smells like unicorn swirls to
me.”
“Truly, Nora. If I knew with a certainty that someone was about
to die in Medium Rare, I would tell you.”
“Would it help stop it from happening?”
“Oh ghoul’s grime, no. But at least you’d be able to mentally
prepare.”
Assuming, of course, that it wasn’t me on the chopping block. I
knew from experience there was no way to prepare for your own
death.
“Would you like the check, then?” I said. “You know, since you
might have to skedaddle out of here in a hurry with a body in tow.”
“Yes, please.”
 I already had it in my apron and set it on the table, glimpsing the
curtain of rain rolling off the roof, obscuring everything beyond it,
despite there being a few hours left before sunset.
The front door jingled, pulling me out of my quick reverie, and I
smiled at Fiona Sheehan, a rosy-cheeked, orange-haired leprechaun,
as she entered the diner and took a seat at the countertop next to
Tanner.
“I’ll start some water,” I said as I passed. She preferred tea over
coffee, and seeing as how she regularly served me so many good
drinks where she worked at Sheehan’s Pub, I figured it was the least
I could do to keep the loose leaf she preferred on hand.
She was a new regular at Medium Rare, and I was glad to have
her, even if her recurring visits had less to do with our food and
more to do with eating somewhere she knew neither Ansel Fontaine
nor Darius Pine would be. Things were a bit awkward with them
after the love spell that overtook Eastwind had brought the two
werebears to blows over their rekindled passion for her.
Strangely enough, the whole debacle had only brought her and
Jane, Ansel’s wife, closer together, commiserating over how barbaric
and annoyingly territorial men could be. “Jane should be in here in
an hour,” I said, dropping off her tea.
“No worries. Mostly just want to get out of the house with all this
rain. Making me a little stir crazy.” She lifted the top of the teapot
and inhaled, moaning quietly. “This hits the spot.”
“You working tonight?” I asked.
“Yeah, but not for a few hours. Kelley has the early shift.”
I returned to my textbook as Fiona and Tanner struck up a
conversation about a new recipe for sleeping draughts Stella had
published in the paper the week before.
 But I was hardly a paragraph into the characteristics and
behaviors of red giants before Eva set a stack of dirty plates down
on the counter next to me just a little too hard. The clatter made me
jump. I looked up to see if I could help her with something. She
scowled at a threesome of fifty-something werewolves (bitches, to
be precise, though I still wasn’t in love with that term despite it not
being considered offensive in Eastwind) as they gabbed to each
other in a booth, finishing up the last of their meal.
“I swear,” Eva said, “why even come here if you hate witches so
much?” She turned to me. “It’s like they drop in just for the sport of
talking down to me and dropping racist jabs.”
Although Eva was black, I knew she didn’t mean “racist” in the
sense that it applied back in our old world. What color anyone was in
Eastwind was irrelevant when it came to bigotry. The kind of
creature they were, however …
Tanner paused in his conversation with Fiona. “Don’t worry about
those old biddies at table five,” he said, waving them off. “Gladys
was more than happy to have a witch respond to her emergency owl
last week when she thought someone had cursed her shower to
keep it from getting hot.”
“Someone cursed her shower?” I asked.
Tanner sipped his coffee then shook his head. “Just your average
plumbing problem.”
“Listen, Eva,” I said, “if they get too rude, just let me know and
I’ll ask them to leave.”
She waved it off on a deep exhale. “Nah. I’ve dealt with worse. It
just seems a little more, I dunno, obvious than usual lately.”
“Because it is,” I said. “Can you blame them with how hard the
Coven is backing that dumb Werewolf Protection Act lately? I’d be
grouchy, too, if I thought the government was trying to pass laws
that took away my rights.”
“Maybe,” said Tanner, “but you wouldn’t be such a hag about it to
others.”
If I started kicking out every were who showed hostility toward
myself or Eva solely for being witches, Medium Rare would go out of
business from lack of clientele. That was the tricky thing about being
a witch-owned establishment in a werewolf part of town.
“I think what’s the most upsetting,” said Eva, “is the weres that
are trying to be polite, but I can tell from the way they look at me
that they just don’t trust me like they used to.”
I knew exactly what she meant. The Flannerys had always been
kind and open, but even they had started to give me side eye.
“Which is why we have to keep serving them,” I reminded her.
“Every positive interaction we have is a win for all witches. We’re in
a unique position. I know it sucks right now, but in how many other
places can you find witches and weres spending so much time in
close quarters nowadays?”
“It’s true,” Tanner said. “That was part of why Bruce Saxon, rest
in peace, hired me in the first place.”
When Tanner said “rest in peace” I knew it was more an order
than a blessing; Bruce’s ghost had come back twice since he’d been
murdered, and we were all hoping he’d stay gone this time. But
perhaps he was also trying to be respectful, seeing as how Fiona
had been secretly dating Bruce back when he was killed.
“Bruce always wanted this to be a place anyone could come and
feel welcome,” Tanner continued.
Fiona nodded. “He was proud of it. We try to do that at
Sheehan’s as well. But the tension has become palpable everywhere.
Bar brawls are reaching all-time highs, and I’m not even talking
about the ones from the love spell.” She cleared her throat,
obviously embarrassed to have brought up that sensitive subject.
Eva jumped in. “It’s like you said, Nora. Places like here and
Sheehan’s are more important than ever. Back in New Orleans, sure,
there was a lot of tension between races and classes, but the only
time I ever saw it improve was when people had to come face-to-
face with those they claimed to hate. Nothing like proximity to force
people to get over themselves.”
“And the ones who can’t manage it leave,” I said regretfully.
“Speaking of which, you reckon the Bouquets will ever pay us
another visit?”
Tanner chuckled. “Don’t tell me you’re sad they don’t come
anymore. There are few things I can depend on more than you
rolling your eyes as soon as you turn your back on a conversation
with Hyacinth.”
Sure, the elf wasn’t my favorite person, but I’d always thought
her werewolf husband, James, had liked me well enough.
“She’s not the best conversation, no,” I conceded, “but I’d take
her gossiping and intrusion to my personal life over Flufferbum’s
intense stare.”
Tanner glanced over his shoulder at the assistant chief editor,
giving him a friendly wave before turning back. “Eek. Yeah.”
I leaned over the counter so my rude question wouldn’t be
overheard. “What is he anyway? Witch? Were? Something else
entirely?” I was still terrible at this guessing game, but Tanner and
Fiona understood and didn’t judge.
“Were-beast,” Tanner said. “Werebunny, to be exact.”
I could feel my right eye twitch as I tried not to laugh. “You’re
joking, right?”
Tanner shook his head. “No, why?”
 “Oh, come on. Werebunny can’t be a thing.”
“Why not?” he asked.
I looked at Eva, who appeared equally incredulous, before
addressing Fiona. “Is he telling the truth?”
“Yep.”
I leaned to the side to take in the sight of Lot again, this time
through new eyes. A werebunny? “Yeah, I guess I could see it,” I
said.
Tanner shivered. “It’s like he thinks if he stares at us without
blinking long enough, he’ll discover who the fifth witch is.”
I glared daggers at him, wishing it might make him unsay what
he just had. All it did, though, was make Tanner recoil and say,
“What?” Then his eyes darted to Fiona. “Oh right. But she’s cool.” He
addressed her. “You’re cool, right?”
“I’m not going to tell the press who the obvious fifth witch of
your new circle is, if that’s what you mean.”
“You know?” I asked.
She chuckled. “I work at a bar. I see who comes in together and
who goes out. I hear things from people I shouldn’t on a regular
basis. I think I know more about the people in this town than they
know about themselves. And as such, I make it a policy not to talk
about any of it to anyone.”
“Speaking of Hyacinth and James,” Tanner said, “I just heard
they moved into a new house in Erin Park.”
“Great,” said Fiona. “Now I get to be neighbors with them.” She
arched a displeased eyebrow. “If anyone tells you leprechauns are
lucky, you remind them of this and that’ll shut them up.”
“Wait,” said Eva. “They won’t come into a predominantly
werewolf diner to eat, but they’ll move farther away from the
Outskirts into a neighborhood that’s about fifty-fifty with witches and
leprechauns?”
Fiona shrugged. “It’s also where most of the elves live, so maybe
Hyacinth wanted to be around more of her kind. Although, honestly,
you’re trying to find logic to bigotry, and I don’t think that’s
possible.”
The bell above the door rang again, and a middle-aged woman
stepped in. She was soaked head to toe from the rain, and water
pooled on the floor around her feet. She looked more wet dog than
witch.
I’d seen this woman around town, hanging out with some of the
other active Coven members, but I didn’t have a clue of her name or
even what type of witch she was. I’d certainly never seen her in
Medium Rare before.
She didn’t look around for an open table, just stood there
watering the floor. Strings of her shoulder-length brown hair stuck to
her face, and it struck me as odd that she wouldn’t brush them
back. In fact, a lot of her behavior struck me as odd. “Welcome,” I
called out to her, “you can have a seat wherever.”
“Need a towel?” asked Tanner. “We have plenty in the back.”
It was only when she failed to respond with even a smile or a
glance our way that I took a closer look and noticed the box in her
hand.
It was an ordinary box—biodegradable cardboard by the looks of
it—and big enough to hold a large crystal ball or a small cauldron.
She bent stiffly at the waist and set it on the ground just past the
edges of the booths that backed up to the entrance. And then, she
turned and walked back into the rain.
It didn’t take my powers of Insight to tell me something was off
about that. I glanced at Fiona, who shared a worried look with
Tanner.
“Is it a delivery?” asked Eva quietly.
No one in the restaurant but the four of us seemed to notice the
strange cameo, and conversation carried on as usual while the box
sat there untouched. The three werewolves that had mistreated Eva
cackled about something, setting my nerves on edge.
“It’s probably nothing,” I said, taking the initiative and rounding
the counter to approach. Tanner moved with me and we paused as
we reached the box. He set his hands on his hips, leaning side to
side to view all the angles.
“Just looks like a little package. You order something?”
I had to consider it. “No, I don’t think so.”
He took out his wand as subtly as he could to avoid getting any
werewolf hackles up, then he squatted and waved it slowly around
the box. “Not sensing any enchantment. Hold on a second …”
He leaned closer, tilting his ear toward it this time, and his mouth
turned into a little O as he looked up at me quickly. “It’s ticking. Why
would a box—”
Before he could finish the question, the mysterious package
supplied the answer. A bell like a kitchen timer rang, and the lid
popped open, shooting a fine, sparkling dust into the air … and
directly into Tanner’s face.
He fell back onto his rear, coughing and waving his hand around
to clear the powder.
I was at a complete loss. It was like a glitter bomb, but there was
so much of it. Watching it shimmer through the air left me
entranced. It reflected the overhead light, sending glistening blips
this way and that, slowly spreading throughout the small dining
room.
 “Is it someone’s birthday?” Eva asked, and that seemed like a
pretty good guess, considering. Why deliver something like this and
walk out?
“Mine’s not for another month,” I said.
“Not mine, either,” said Tanner.
The particles continued to dance throughout the entire diner
before slowly falling back down to earth. And as they did, the
werewolves at table five began gasping for air and making horrible
gagging noises. Then, so did Lot Flufferbum.
That was strange. The stuff had blown right into Tanner’s face,
and he’d been able to cough it off quickly. Why were they—
It suddenly hit me what was in that box.
“Holy smokes, Tanner!” I said, my feet glued to the tile floors
while select guests on my left and right continued to gag and groan.
“It’s silver powder!”
 Chapter Two

Tanner scrambled to his feet and leaped into action, sprinting out
the front door after the witch. Ted appeared suddenly beside me.
“You gonna drag them out of here, or should I?”
I heard him loud and clear. Contact with silver was excruciating
for any were-beast. Breathing it in could be that and more. I already
knew it didn’t take much skin exposure over the long term to kill a
werewolf, and as the dust literally settled on my customers, seconds
became precious.
“Eva! Fiona! Grim! Help me!”
The few guests who weren’t affected by the silver turned in their
seats, trying to understand the commotion, but I didn’t have time to
explain. I ran to table five, grabbed the first werewolf I could get my
hands on, and dragged her from the booth, across the floor, and out
the front door into the rain. I couldn’t get the silver out of her lungs,
but I could get it off her skin.
Eva and Fiona had the roundest of the werewolves between
them, sharing the load as they dragged her out, kicking and
screaming. The idiot was actually resisting them.
“Get your”—hacking coughs—“hands off”—grotesque gurgling
—“me, witch!”
 On my way back in for the few remaining weres, I passed Grim,
who’d grabbed Lot Flufferbum by the collar of his button-up shirt
and dragged him roughly toward the exit. I held open the door as he
backed out.
“I’m gonna need a lot of bacon for this …”
Even his thoughts sounded strained as the werebunny mistook
Grim’s help for an attack and tried to fight him off. I winced as Lot’s
head cracked into the metal door frame.
“He’s trying to save you,” I snapped at Lot before adding, “you
idiot,” and dodging back inside.
By the time all the affected guests were outside in the rain, too
many minutes had passed, and the chorus of coughing was growing
to a crescendo. And I could have sworn I saw the lady in the floral
dress cough up blood.
Fiona had the added benefit of not being a witch, which meant
the more biased of the weres accepted her comfort without a
struggle.
“We need to get them help,” I shouted to Eva through the
downpour. She nodded, but before she could take action, Tanner
appeared, rain-soaked and red-faced.
And annoyingly sexy.
Not the time, Nora!
“I lost her, but I know where she lives. I can catch up with her
later.”
Thunder cracked overhead. “We need to get them help,” I
hollered.
“Already on it,” he said.
A second later, cutting through the dim, blurred sky came the
bright glow of Eastwind’s angelic sheriff, Gabby Bloom. She landed
gracefully yards away, folding her great white wings behind her. “The
Lytefoots are on their way already,” she spoke over the rain. “I told
them to bring remedies for silver, is that right?”
I nodded.
“I’m going to need the full story, but first, let’s make sure these
people don’t die.” She knelt down next to one of the victims, a
young girl who had been dining with her father. I wasn’t sure if she
was a werewolf or some other kind of were, but Bloom instructed
her to rinse out her mouth with the rainwater and helped her stand
to finish scrubbing any remaining silver residue off her inflamed skin.
The Lytefoots arrived shortly. Both Kayleigh and Stella had their
hands full, flitting from one agonizing person to the other on their
pixie wings. Stella administered the potion for them to drink while
her partner rubbed a thick honey-like salve over their skin that didn’t
wash away despite the wetness and relentless rain.
I felt an extra helping of chill against my shoulder and turned to
see the same ghost who’d been browsing my astronomy homework
earlier.
“She looks just like you,” he said, pointing at Kayleigh Lytefoot. It
was a conclusion I’d arrived at a while ago.
“Yeah. Thanks for the super helpful observation amid the chaos.”
“I’d almost guess she was a doppelgänger if it weren’t for the
fact that they were annihilated from the realm a while ago, and she
has wings and is slightly prettier than you.”
I turned to glare at him full on, waving my hand through the air
where he hovered, trying to waft him away. “I think that’s just about
enough out of the peanut gallery.”
“What?” the spirit said defensively. “To even come close to the
beauty of a pixie is an accomplishment. Learn to take a compliment.”
“Learn to give one,” I snapped. “Don’t make me banish you.”
 I felt the ghost disappear right after I put my back to him again,
returning my attention to the grim scene.
And speaking of which …
“He even tastes sour.” Grim trotted over, having done his good
deed for the day. Kayleigh and Stella were attending to the
werebunny now.
“Please don’t tell me you actually bit him.”
“If I broke the skin, which I admit I did, it was because he
wouldn’t stop struggling. That’s on him.”
I still wouldn’t put it past Lot to publish that a witch’s familiar bit
him during the fray. Never mind why.
I sighed, feeling the gravity of what had just happened sink in.
There wasn’t anything left for me to do, but I couldn’t tear myself
away. Instead, I cast a glance over my shoulder at the diner, dry and
bright behind me, I saw Ted had returned to his corner booth. The
grim reaper sipped his coffee and watched the scene like a hawk.
Not today, Ted.
 Chapter Three

Because the inside of Medium Rare was now the magical equivalent
of a chemical spill, there was no choice but to close down for the
day.
Eva stayed on to help me scrub every surface we could find, but
I knew there were particles we hadn’t gotten to, ones that would
have to float through the air a bit more before they settled and we
could clean them.
For obvious safety reasons, I told Jane not to come in, which
meant it was just down to Eva and me, and it wasn’t until after six
when we were both able to leave.
“Enjoy your day off,” I said as she opened her umbrella under the
awning out back.
Word traveled fast in town, and a few hours prior I’d received a
notice by owl post that the High Council was requiring the diner to
pass a safety inspection for any remaining traces of silver before I
could open my doors for business, which meant I got to spend the
following morning scrubbing everything all over again before the
inspector came out.
As annoyed as I was, I also understood. It was lucky that there
weren’t any deaths resulting from the event. Being the target of an
attack like that was bad enough for business without there being
fatalities.
And, yes, I was also happy no one died for reasons unrelated to
my business. Hopefully that goes without saying, but, well, maybe
not. Especially when Lot Flufferbum is involved.
The delay in getting back home meant I had no down time
before lessons.
A circular conversation with a neurotic spirit kept me occupied on
the rainy walk. I didn’t know this ghost before her death, but she
chattered on like we were old friends, telling me all kinds of sordid
details from her time with her last lover … who ended up murdering
her.
I didn’t know what closure I could give her, so I just listened.
“Sounds like he wasn’t a great guy,” I said, finally.
“Oh no,” she said airily. Or rather, more airily than how ghosts
usually speak. “He was wonderful. I was what drove him to it ...”
Oh boy. There it was. She wasn’t going to move on until she
admitted it wasn’t her fault she was murdered. I’d encountered a
few of these, and they always took forever to work through. I could
always just banish her, but Ruby had insisted that wasn’t ideal for
those with unresolved issues.
When I entered into Ruby’s parlor, my landlady was sitting quietly
in her usual spot, but she jumped up the moment I entered, even
before her eyes landed on my ghostly attachment, and scurried over,
flailing her arms and saying, “Not in the house!”
For a moment, I thought she meant Grim. He seemed to think
the same thing, and tucked his tail to protect his tender bits.
But Ruby ignored him, instead reaching up and rattling a few of
the baubles hanging from the ceiling.
 With a yelp, the spirit was sucked out of the front door, which
slammed shut.
“Thanks,” I said. “I needed a break from her.”
Ruby didn’t seem to hear me as she zigzagged around the room,
selecting particular hanging totems and giving them a jiggle. “I’ve
had just about enough of the thinning veil! Can’t a Fifth Wind get a
moment’s peace? Clearly not.”
She stopped when her eyes landed on Grim, where he stood
dripping on her wood floor. “Oh, he’s gotta go out, too.”
“Make me, woman. Those freaky dust collectors don’t work on
me.”
To avoid a Grim and Ruby showdown, which I had no doubt
wouldn’t work in Grim’s favor, I decided to speak on his behalf.
“What if I just towel him off? Old Grim Goodboy lived up to his name
today.”
“That’s not my name!”
“Did he?” said Ruby skeptically.
“Yes. He saved Lot Flufferbum.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Lot Flufferbum? The one that works at
the Watch?”
I nodded.
“Hmph! I’d hardly call saving Flufferbum’s fluffy bum being a
good boy.” She paused, narrowing her eyes at Grim. “But fine. Towel
will do … this time.”
***
Grim, clearly feeling like he’d put in a solid day’s work by being a
hero, lounged by the fireplace, exuding an air of entitlement to his
laziness stronger than I’d ever seen from him. Or maybe it was that
I’d fed him too much bacon as a reward, and that was why he was
spread out on his back, giving both Oliver Bridgewater and me an
eyeful of his nether regions without a care in the world.
By the time our study of nuclear combustion was completed, it
was well dark outside, and the rain had let up somewhat, though
that proved to be only temporary.
“Off you go,” Ruby said, holding the door open for Oliver. “We
don’t have much time for the practicum before it starts raining
again. I had to call in an old favor, and I don’t want it to go to
waste.”
Oliver scurried down the porch steps, and I grabbed my overcoat
and umbrella before we followed the same path.
“Grim, you’d better come with us,” Ruby said.
My familiar, still on his back, airing out his bits after his most
recent thorough cleaning, flopped around like a turtle on his back
until he was able to find his feet. “There is not enough bacon.”
“Medium Rare is closed until further notice, Grim. That means no
scraps. You’re cut off. But if you come with us, I’ll give you two strips
of bacon in the morning.”
“I’ve never been so insulted in my life. Two pieces?” He trotted
toward us. “You’re lucky I’m slightly terrified of Ruby, or else it would
be no deal.”
Oliver continued on his route home while Ruby led the way
toward Erin Park. I had a suspicion of where we were going, and
when we turned down a side street and Rainbow Falls came into
view, my guess was confirmed.
The umbrella had remained unopened by my side for the
duration of the walk, though I’d hugged my coat tightly to me
against the Winds of Change that now regularly rushed through
Eastwind in howling bursts.
 Even though the rain had let up, there wasn’t a star to be seen
through the thick clouds, so I wasn’t sure how we were going to
have our astrology lesson.
But just as I opened my mouth to make a snarky comment, a
hole appeared in the clouds above us. Its diameter grew rapidly, and
I snapped my mouth shut and turned my attention to Ruby, who
was smirking.
I asked, “What sort of favor did they owe you?”
“A big one.”
“And how did you get someone this indebted to you?”
Ruby waved me off. “Please, dear. You act like I did nothing
before you belly flopped into this realm.” She clucked her tongue at
me. “I spent decades solving people’s mysteries for them. You wind
up with a lot of people in your debt, if you play your cards right and
convince them that the money they’re paying you is a steal for what
they’re getting.” She paused to gaze at the starlight flowing in
through the hole in the clouds. “It’s always a shame to call the
favors in, though. Not that I run at a shortage, just that keeping a
town indebted to you is a great way to keep from being asked
anymore favors. Now that Candice Crystalis is off the hook, I reckon
it won’t be more than a month before she comes knocking, asking
for some new favor. Never mind that I’m retired!”
I guessed that Candice was the North Wind responsible for this
bit of aeromancy that allowed us to see the night sky.
Fifteen minutes later, once Ruby had walked me through some of
the constellations we were focusing on, we moved onto planetary
alignment. Grim was on his back again, his fur drenched after a
thorough roll in the wet grass. His thick jowls flopped back, almost
covering his eyes.
 “Is there any significance to the fact that both Miro and Foltz are
close together in the Leetomere constellation?” I asked.
“Leeromere,” she corrected, “and of course.”
“And that is?”
“Oh, you know”—she waved her hand around vaguely—“conflict,
strife, so on.”
“Love it,” said Grim without moving an inch.
I ignored him. “You don’t sound concerned.”
“Why should I be? This is astrology we’re talking about. We’re
studying the stories the stars tell, and what’s a story without a bit of
conflict and strife?”
“A vacation?”
She pointed at me. “Exactly! And think of the last time you
wanted to hear about someone’s vacation.”
Okay, she had a point.
Grim rolled onto his stomach. “That’s only because witches have
no idea how to take a real vacation. If you’d only go to the
Deadwoods, you’d get all the conflict and strife you need. And then
some. Oh! And death. So much sweet, sweet death.”
I gazed up at the sky again, slowing my breathing, opening
myself up to feel the pull of the stars I’d felt the last time I’d been
up here. The rest of my witch’s circle had been there with me then,
and I’d managed to harness some of the power from the stars to
survive a close shave with a being much more powerful than myself.
A quick flash streamed between the two brightest stars of the
Pentaclave constellation. “Did you see that?” I asked Ruby.
“Sure did.”
“And what does that mean?” The heavens were so uneventful,
sudden movement, especially, carried a big meaning.
 “Difficult to put into words.” But she was smiling, so I decided to
count it as a win.
Then, just as I was starting to feel good about the future, she
narrowed her eyes on me and said, “So I hear you’re raising the
dead.”
Grim made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a snicker.
“Busted.”
I sucked in air so quickly, I choked on my own spit. When I could
breathe again, I said, “What?”
She didn’t appear too upset, but her words did carry an
undertone of threat. “That dreamy hunk of Irish sass. You figured
out how to bring him back.”
“Yes, but I didn’t go through with it.” Not entirely, anyway. “Did
Donovan tell you that?”
Her eyebrows flew up toward her gray hair. “Donovan knows? Bet
he was jealous. No, it was Ted that told me. He claims to have seen
you do it in the back alley of Sheehan’s. Keeping it classy, I see.”
Grim barked a chuckle.
So Ted had watched Donovan and I back there longer than he’d
let on. What else had he seen and heard?
I felt my face turn red. “It was an accident,” I said. “I had no
idea I could do that.”
Ruby stepped closer to me, and her dark green eyes were
shockingly bright in the darkness. “Let me make one thing clear: no
matter what, the dead should stay dead. Always. That’s our job, to
make sure those who pass don’t linger. There is never a good time
to bring someone back to life, you understand?”
I nodded silently, surprised by her sudden intensity.
“Death is a balancing act, and it’s not our business to tamper
with it. Nature will restore balance no matter what. If you’d brought
Roland back, I’ve no doubt there would have been a sudden death in
the town, and there’s no way of guessing who it would have been.”
“Good golem, what if it could have been me? Are you telling me I
missed out on a perfectly good chance to die again?”
I felt like a small child in the principal’s office, but I didn’t fight it;
I probably deserved this lecture after how reckless I’d been with
Roland O’Neill while he was still hanging around.
Ruby nodded once and stepped back. “Good. Okay, back to the
pointless study of astrology.”
But when I looked up, the clouds were encroaching again, and a
bright bolt of lightning lit up the sky.
“Heaven’s vengeance,” cursed Ruby.
I hadn’t heard that one before, and it made me think of Bloom,
who I still hadn’t spoken with since the incident.
“I guess we’ll have to continue this some other time,” she said,
“unless you know a North Wind who owes you a favor.”
My mind immediately jumped to Landon. The only reason I didn’t
feel particularly bad about the fact that he’d been forced into hiding
and ostracized from the rest of our circle to avoid detection was that
it meant he had more time cooped up with Grace, who was also in
hiding.
If she hadn’t already been pregnant, I would put money on her
becoming it before long. Though Landon would never admit it, I saw
the way he looked at her and the way she looked at him. Bedroom
eyes if I ever saw them.
And good for him.
Of course, he didn’t owe me any favors. If anything, I was deeply
in his debt. “I do know one, obviously, but he’s—”
“Hush,” Grim said, and when I glanced down at him, he was on
his feet, his hackles raised as he stared into the dark tree line twenty
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
singulares
doña María Pimentel se mira,
valerosa condesa de Olivares,
en quien el valor mismo se
remira;
y aquella preferida en mil
lugares,
doña Luisa Faxardo es quien
admira
á la natura, y Medellín,
dichoso
por ella, al mundo dexará
invidioso.
Aquella gracia y discreción
que iguala
á la beldad, con ser en tanto
grado,
que lo menos que vemos
tiende el ala
sobre lo más perfecto y
acabado,
miradla bien, que es doña Inés
de Ayala,
sin poder ser de otra aquel
traslado,
aquel extremo de amistad y
vida,
de antigua y clara sangre
producida.
Mirad, veréis á la gentil
doña Ana
Félix, felicidad de nuestra era;
es condesa de Ricla, es quien
allana
al siglo el nombre de la edad
primera;
y aquella que se muestra más
que humana
en valor, suerte y gracia
verdadera,
doña Guiomar de Saa, será su
historia
luz de Vanegas, de Espinosa
gloria.
En Tavara y Cerralvo
contemplamos
nueva luz, que los ánimos
assombre,
con estas dos bellezas que
juzgamos,
engrandeciendo de Toledo el
nombre:
si ofuscada la vista retiramos,
veremos otro sol de tal
renombre,
que el de Guzmán adelantado
queda,
por quien compite con el cielo
Uceda.
Allí se muestra en rostro
grave y ledo
aquella admiración de los
vivientes,
honor de Enríquez, gloria de
Acevedo,
siendo condesa sin igual de
Fuentes;
y aquella (si en tan poco tanto
puedo
que, dexadas sus partes
excelentes,
diga su nombre) es doña
Catarina
de Carrillo y Pacheco la más
dina.
Mirad las dos de extraña
maravilla
en valor, en saber y en
hermosura:
la una de Escobedo, otra de
Arcilla,
gloria y honor, y más de la
natura,
María y Catarina, á quien se
humilla
todo lo digno de alabanza
pura,
ambas por albedrío y por
estrella,
aquésta de Bazán, de Hoyo
aquélla.
Llegue doña María de
Peralta,
en quien se alegra y enriquece
el suelo;
doña Angela de Tarsis, do se
esmalta
más viva luz que la que
muestra el cielo;
doña Isabel Chacón aquí no
falta,
que faltara la gloria y el
consuelo;
tres tales son que, para no
agraviallas,
gastar debía tres siglos en
loallas.
Vamos á aquella de la
antigua cepa
de Córdova, sin par doña
María,
es marquesa de Estepa, y con
Estepa,
serlo de un mundo entero
merecía;
y á ti en quien no es possible
que más quepa
suerte, valor, beldad y
gallardía,
del tronco de Velasco,
Mariana,
por quien el de Alvarado tanto
gana.
Las tres hermanas que en
mirar se goza
con atención el regidor de
Oriente,
veislas aquí cómo las muestra
Poza,
y cómo Aranda, y cómo
Avilafuente;
en ellas el real nombre se
alboroza
de Enríquez, y un misterio
nuevo siente,
que aunque no es nuevo en él
el bien cumplido,
eslo en el mundo el que ellas
han tenido.
De Castro y de Moscoso
llana hacen
dos Teresas la luz, y al sol
escaso,
por quien Mendoza y Vargas
satisfacen
sin haber cosa que más haga
al caso,
con doña Mariana más
aplacen,
por quien Mendoza,
enriqueciendo á Lasso,
se alegra el Tajo, y su feliz
corriente
dirá Lasso y Mendoza
eternamente.
Las dos hermanas en quien
cupo tanto,
que en lengua humana su loor
no cabe,
son Blanca y Catarina, y son
espanto
de quien lo menos de sus
partes sabe,
el claro nombre de la Cerda,
en tanto
abre su lumbre y éstas son la
llave
con su gracia y virtud
resplandecientes,
una de Denia y otra de
Cifuentes.
Aquella que, aunque el sol
más se le acerque,
es impossible que á su luz
parezca,
y por más vueltas con que el
cielo cerque,
no hallará quien tanto loor
merezca,
es la gentil duquesa de
Alburquerque,
por quien después que todo el
bien parezca,
recobrarse podrá en la antigua
Cueva,
que ha de ser siempre
milagrosa y nueva.
De singulares dones
mejorada
se ve doña María de Padilla,
del mundo por valor
Adelantada,
siéndolo por estado de
Castilla;
y la que fué de tal beldad
dotada,
que la misma belleza se le
humilla,
doña Juana de Acuña, en
quien se halla
tanto, que más la alaba el que
más calla.
La de Velada y la del Carpio
vienen,
aquésta de Toledo, ésta de
Haro,
y ambas del cielo en lo que en
sí contienen
de beldad y valor é ingenio
raro;
junto con ellas á su lado tienen
á la que no fué el cielo más
avaro,
es señora de Pinto, y es
aquella
luz de Carrillo y de Faxardo
estrella.
No nos encubre la alta
Catarina
de Mendoza su aspecto
valeroso,
marquesa de Mondéjar, sola
 dina
de hacer nuestro siglo
venturoso;
ni aquella de bondad tan
peregrina
del nombre de Velasco
generoso,
que desde Peñafiel hinche la
tierra
de cuanto bien y gloria el
mundo encierra.
La que al sol mira en medio
de su esfera,
y el sol se ofusca al resplandor
jocundo,
es doña Ana del Aguila, do
espera
Ciudad Rodrigo, y goza el bien
del mundo;
quise cantar aquesta luz
primera,
al cabo de este templo sin
segundo,
ya que en el orden no hay otro
remedio
para igualar principio y fin y
medio.

Dixo el mago Erión; y vuelto á los

tres pastores, que con sumo
contento le escuchaban, recibió
dellos las debidas gracias, y
tornando del fresco jardín, les
señaló aposentos en que
habitassen y familiares suyos que
los sirviessen; donde gozaban sin
medida su deleite, cuándo con las
diosas de los montes, siguiendo
las fieras, cuándo con las deesas
de las selvas, cazando las aves, y
cuándo con las ninfas del sagrado
río, apartando el oro de entre la
menuda arena; vida dulce, más
fácil de ser invidiada que imitada,
donde era la razón señora, el
deseo cautivo, el gusto honor, el
honor regalo, Amor ardía y el
respeto no se helaba; bien se
puede aquí esperar firmeza, que
donde falta virtud, difícil es la
perseverancia. Y ahora volvamos
á la ribera, donde, con su bien ó
su mal, quedaron nuestros
pastores esperándonos.
 NOTAS:
[1271] En la primera edición se lee acuerda, repitiendo el
consonante Mayans enmendó bien concuerda.
[1272] Así en la primera edición. En la de Mayans, hace.
 SÉPTIMA PARTE
DEL PASTOR DE FILIDA

Si en la llaneza y soledad de los

campos se lloran celos y se
padece olvido, ¿de qué más se
puede Amor culpar, en la pompa
de las Cortes y en el tráfago de
las ciudades, de la mentira y
engaño de un corazón que,
dividido en mil partes, sin reparar
en ninguna, á todas se vende por
entero? ¿Y de la miseria del
amador, que á trueco de no ser
olvidado, le es fácil passar
callando por más mal que
sospechas y recelos, donde claro
se ve cuánto mayor sea el dolor
del olvido que la passión celosa?
Celosos he visto yo sin miedo de
ser olvidados, y jamás vi olvidado
que no viviesse celoso; ausencia
calle con celos; celo y ausencia
con olvido; que si el ausente
carece de su contento, puédele
buscar, y el celoso si le halla, es
en poder ajeno; y el olvidado
ausente está, y con más
violencia, y celoso y con menos
reparo; pero todo esto no puede
compararse, Amor, á la injusticia
de un engaño, que mientras uno
con lealtad y fe sirva y ame, sea
pagado con fingida voluntad y
agradecida esta paga. Mas,
¿quién me aparta á tan insufrible
consideración? Vuélvame la
verdad de mis pastores á la
agradable ribera, donde ya que
como humanos hagan mudanza,
no como dañados harán engaños.
Vimos venir á Sasio del templo de
Diana, tan contento de la venida
de Silvera como si tuviera muchas
y grandes seguridades de su
Amor; mas sucedióle lo que suele
á los confiados, que la pastorcilla
gentil, no estimando en nada
haberla él hospedado en la ribera
de Pisuerga y agasajádola con su
música y canto tantas veces, y
alabádola en tiernas y numerosas
rimas, y menos la afición que de
presente le mostraba, puso los
ojos en el prendado Arsiano;
empleo que á la verdad pudiera
tener Sasio por venganza, si su
mucho amor la consintiera,
porque más que nunca Arsiano
amaba á la hermosa Amarantha;
y de aquí vino que Sasio y
Arsiano adolecieron á un tiempo,
con el contino cuidado, con el
celoso dolor, con las noches
malas y los peores días, y en muy
breves Sasio murió, dexando un
general sentimiento por cuantas
aguas riegan nuestra España,
especial en los pastores y
hermosas hijas del sagrado Tajo;
y pienso que las nueve musas y
el mismo Apolo sintieron esta
pérdida. ¡Oh, gran padre de la
Música, sin duda callabas cuando
te llamó la muerte! Tú, con tu voz
divina, mil veces alegraste los
tristes y aliviaste los dolores
ajenos, digno fué tu acento de
resonar en los cielos y de mover
las peñas en la tierra. ¿Cómo
ahora no lo haces en la que te
cubre? Vengan, Sasio, de las
remotas naciones los hombres
raros á llorar tu muerte, y de la
propia, llore Filardo, lloren Arsiano
y Matunto, y tu traslado Belisa, en
quien nos queda tu mayor
herencia y nuestro mayor
consuelo. Fué puesto Sasio poco
distante de su cabaña, en un
mármol cavado, negro como el
ébano de Oriente, cubierto de
otro, blanco como la nieve de la
sierra, y en muchas plantas que
alrededor tenía se escribieron
diversos epitafios en sus loores;
mas entre todos el famoso Tirsi,
cuyas rimas tantas veces Sasio
solía cantar, en el tronco de un
olmo, que con sus ramas cubría
el ancho sepulcro, escribió estos
versos de su mano:

DE TIRSI Á SASIO
Yace á la sombra deste duro
canto
el que le enterneciera, si
cantara;
dexando al mundo su silencio
en llanto,
dexó el velo mortal el Alma
cara;
mas no pudieran Muerte y
Amor tanto,
si el cielo para sí no le
invidiara,
Amor y Muerte dan; recibe el
cielo,
el don es, Sasio, y quien le
llora el suelo.

Entre las lágrimas justas destos

amigos pastores, nació otra
justíssima ambición y codicia para
heredar la lira del segundo Orfeo:
los opositores fueron Filardo y
Matunto, Belisa y Arsiano, que
aunque enfermo y sin gusto, dexó
el lecho y se animó á esta
empresa. Pusieron por jueces al
venerable Sileno, al celebrado
Arciolo, al famoso Tirsi, que
todos tres sabían la dignidad de
los cuatro pretendientes, y aun
esto fué causa de no
determinarse, antes remitieron el
juicio y la lira á las ninfas del río:
ellas la tuvieron un día en su
poder y la cubrieron de una rica
funda de oro y seda, hecha por
las hermosas manos de Arethusa;
y assí adornada la enviaron á las
deesas de las selvas, donde
estuvieron tres días, entre
olorosas flores y hierbas, y hecho
un carro triunfal, cubierto de
hiedra y de frescas ramas, tirado
de los dos blancos becerros, fué
llevada en él á las diosas de los
montes, y allí se consagró á
Filida, en cuyo poder, de
conformidad de ninfas y pastores,
quedó aquel don caro del cielo, y
con mayor fuerza que antes
mueve á los animales y las
gentes por la grandeza de su
poseedora. Pero la lástima
universal de Sasio y el general
aplauso de su muerte, ¿por
ventura movieron el pecho de
Silvera? Esso no; que moría por
Arsiano, y mientras un contento
huye, mal puede haber otra cosa
que lastime. Juntos estaban un
día gran número de pastores y
pastoras, caído el sol, gozando de
la frescura de un verde pradecillo
y del templado viento que
soplaba, donde Alfeo los ojos en
Finea, Andria los suyos en Alfeo,
los de Arsiano en Andria y los de
Silvera en Arsiano, Andria rompió
el silencio y dixo al son de la
zampoña de Silvera:

ANDRIA
Suele en el bosque espesso
el animoso
mozo gallardo, que con el
agudo
venablo fuerte ha penetrado el
crudo
pecho del tigre, del león ó el
osso,
Mirarle en tierra muerto,
sanguinoso,
y recrearse viendo lo que
pudo;
y á las veces, dexándole
desnudo,
la piel á cuestas irse
victorioso.
¿No he sido digna yo de
tanta cuenta
como las fieras, que la muerte
suya
baña de invidia mis cansados
ojos;
Pues tienes el matarme por
afrenta,
y estimas en tan poco mis
despojos,
que te ofende mi alma porque
es tuya?

Acostumbrado estaba Alfeo á oir

estas mancillas y Arsiano á
sentirlas por los dos, pero no por
esso menguaba punto de su
Amor, y como ahora vido que,
callando Silvera, Filardo tañía,
dixo assí, puestos los ojos en la
fingida Amarantha:

ARSIANO
Mientras el más ocioso
pensamiento
del bravo mozo, con soberbio
pecho,
levanta de su honra ó su
provecho
hasta las nubes machinas de
viento,
Las vitorias allí de ciento en
ciento,
la plata, el oro se le viene al
lecho,
y alargando la mano á lo que
ha hecho,
se ve de rico pobre en un
momento.
Dejando yo estas torres de
vitoria,
de triunfos, de riquezas, de
despojos,
suelo fingir, pastora, por lo
menos,
Que me miras de grado con
tus ojos,
mas despiértame luego la
memoria,
 y quedo con los míos de agua
llenos.

No dió lugar Silvera á que Filardo

dexasse la zampoña, que al punto
que Arsiano acabó su soneto,
vuelta á él, comenzó desta
manera el suyo:

SILVERA
Toma del hondo del abismo
el fuego,
la rabia y ansia de los
condenados;
el descontento de los
agraviados:
de los tiranos el desasossiego.
Ponlo en el alma donde el
Amor ciego
puso tu merecer y mis
cuidados,
y porque sean mis males
confirmados
cessen mis ojos de mirarte
luego.
Que de tu voluntad
escarnecido,
aqueste Amor que sólo me
asegura
prisión, afrenta y muerte de tu
mano,
No sólo no de lo que
siempre ha sido
podrá quitar un punto, un tilde,
un grano,
 pero hará mi fe más firme y
pura.

Estos pastores cantaban y otros

menos afligidos, aunque todos
enamorados, se estaban
ejercitando en grandes pruebas,
cuando entre todos llegó un
pastor robusto con un cayado,
dejó un sayo tosco, sin pliegues,
hasta los pies, y en el brazo
izquierdo un zurrón de lana, cinto
ancho de piel de cabra y
caperuza baja de buriel. Serrano
era el traje y el color del rostro
más; pero la postura y brío tan
gentil, que suspendió á todos su
llegada, y en lugar de cortesía,
soltando el cayado y zurrón,
desafió á tirar, saltar y correr á
cuantos allí estaban. Muchos
salieron á estos desafíos, mas á
ninguno le estuvo bien, assí á los
que saltaron y corrieron, como á
los que tiraron la barra, y entre
ellos no quedó el menos corrido
Alfeo, sino el más deseoso de
saber quién fuesse. Y si con este
cuidado mirara á la serrana Finea,
conociera fácilmente ser el pastor
Orindo, por cuyo desdén ella
andaba desterrada, que la
turbación de su rostro bien claro
se lo dixera; pero seguro desto
pensó que era su mudanza
porque aquel serrano le había
vencido, y llegándose á ella le
dixo: Finea mía, en esto y en todo
es fácil que todos me venzan,
mas en amarte ninguno. A esto
Finea le hizo señas que callasse,
que vido venir á Orindo á donde
estaban, el cual, tras breve
salutación le dixo: Finea,
¿hallaste mejor en lo llano que en
la sierra? ¿Quién eres tú, dixo
Finea, que quieres saber esso de
mí? Si tú no lo sabes, dixo
Orindo, menos lo quiero yo saber,
pero certifícote que soy Orindo.
Ya te conozco, dixo la serrana, y
sin más hablar se levantó y
dexólos; no hizo señal Orindo de
seguirla ni Alfeo de sentimiento,
aunque le tuvo en medio del
corazón, y ya que la noche
cerraba se fué á buscarla á su
cabaña, donde amargamente la
halló llorando, y queriéndola
alegrar no pudo. Muchos días
passó Finea desta suerte, y
muchos Orindo la seguía, y otros
muchos Alfeo confuso no sabía si
perdía ó si ganaba, hasta que
viniendo un día Siralvo á la ribera,
que muchos acostumbraba venir
á visitar las cabañas de Mendino
y los pastores que curaban su
ganado, Alfeo le rogó que hablase
con Finea y supiesse della la
causa de sus lágrimas, porque si
era pesar de ver á Orindo, él le
echaría fácilmente de la ribera, y
si era voluntad de volverse con él,
no era razón desviárselo. Siralvo
lo tomó á su cargo, y á pocos
lances sintió de Finea que andaba
cruelmente combatida y su salud
á mucho riesgo. Orindo era de su
misma suerte, y Alfeo no, de
manera que, estándole bien
casarse con Orindo, á Alfeo no le
convenía casarse con ella; su
destierro había sido por desdén
de Orindo, y ya venía humilde á
su disculpa: Orindo era su amor
primero; Alfeo, segundo; por otra
parte, amaba á Alfeo y se veía dél
amada, y en él había tantos
quilates de valor y merecimiento,
que antes ella se debía dejar
morir que hacer cosa en que le
ofendiesse; acordábase de la
venida de Amarantha y que su
mucha hermosura y afición no
habían sido parte para torcer su
voluntad. Estas consideraciones y
otras muchas en la discreta Finea
eran ponzoña que penetraba su
pecho; pero Siralvo, que
verdaderamente á los dos amaba,
valiéndose de toda su industria
echó el resto de su diligencia y
pudo tanto, que en dos días que
se detuvo en la ribera trocó las
lágrimas de aquellos pastores en
súbito placer y contento; de
manera que Orindo y Finea
tornaron á su primera amistad,
Alfeo y la encubierta Andria á la
suya, y Arsiano, vencido de la