Crown of Shadows by C. S. Friedman

Author:C. S. Friedman
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Fantasy, American, Fiction, General, Fantasy fiction
ISBN: 9780886777173
Publisher: Penguin
Published: 1996-08-01T10:00:00+00:00

The house was just as he remembered it: small and warm and utterly domestic. There were more quake-wards on the front porch now, as well as several new sigils etched into the window; he felt a pang of mourning at the irony of that. When Senzei Reese had lived here, his fiancée had been wary of such devices. Now that he was gone, and the house was free of his obsession, Worked items became acceptable again. It surprised him how bitter he felt about that.

“All right.” He sighed, and started toward the stairs. “Let’s do it.”

“One moment.” Tarrant’s eyes were focused on the ground before the house; Damien sensed him grow tense as he took hold of the currents with his will and began to mold them. As always, he found it eerie that a human being could Work without any sign or incantation to focus concentration.

When it seemed to him that Tarrant was done, he asked, “What are you doing?”

“Merely compensating for the late hour. I understand that anything more would be offensive to you. You see?” The pale eyes fixed on him, a spark of sardonic humor in their depths. “I do learn, Reverend Vryce.”

“About time,” he muttered, as they climbed up the porch stairs together.

It was Tarrant who rapped on the door, and Damien could sense his power woven into the sound, making it reverberate inside any human brain within hearing range. He waited a moment and then knocked again, and suddenly a light came on near the back of the house. She had been sleeping, no doubt. Damien wondered how effective Tarrant’s Working would be if she were barely awake.

After a minute they could see a figure padding through the house, a lamp in its hand. It came to the door and fumbled with the latch, then opened it. A short chain stretched taut as the door was pulled open a few inches.

“Yes?” It was a man. “What do you want?”

Damien couldn’t find his voice; it was Tarrant who filled in. “We’re looking for Allesha Huyding.”

“What’s it about?” he demanded. “And why can’t it wait until morning?”

Damien was about to risk an answer when a female voice sounded from the back of the house. “What is it, Rick?”

“Two men,” he answered curtly. “I don’t know either of them.”

There was movement in the room behind him now, as someone else approached. “Let me see,” she said softly. She peered over his arm and studied Tarrant, then turned to look at Damien. And gasped.

“Sorry to bother you—” the priest began.

“No bother,” she answered quickly. She nodded to the man. “Let them in.”

“But, Lesh—”

“It’s okay. Let them come in.”

He clearly thought otherwise, but he pushed the door closed for a moment, undid the chain, and then opened it wide. Whatever Tarrant had done to keep her calm and cooperative, it had clearly not worked on him. “Hell of an hour,” he muttered, as they stepped into the small, neat living room. He radiated hostility.

Memories. They rose up about Damien as the lamplight flickered, picking out details of a room that was painfully familiar.

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