Haven 3 Shadow Magic (Haven Series 3) by Larson B. V

Author:Larson, B. V. [V., Larson, B.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2010-06-15T05:00:00+00:00

* * *

After Brand left them, Myrrdin could barely meet the eyes of Oberon or Old Hob. He’d promised the boy would be reasonable, but he’d changed. Perhaps it was the influence of that accursed axe. Whatever the cause, it was unforeseen and unfortunate.

“You’d better get the leash back on that barking dog of yours, Myrrdin,” said Old Hob.

Myrrdin glared at him, but did not respond.

“Stuff and nonsense!” Old Hob proclaimed. He shuffled away, still shouting to the others over his shoulder. “I’ve better things to do than whisper on this mound. One way or another, things are in flux. Mark my words! Goblins will have their due yet!”

Myrrdin watched the misshapen figure retreat downslope. Oberon, Myrrdin’s sire, sat upon the grasses at the very crest of the enchanted hill and took out his pipes. He did not play them, however.

Myrrdin wondered what his father was thinking. He thought perhaps he knew. “You believe this to be a grand error in judgment? Is that it?”

Oberon smiled and shrugged. “What is done is done. The question is: can matters be repaired?”

“That’s what I want!” Myrrdin exclaimed. “We’ve had two centuries of easy times since we’ve last faced one another in battle. What good can come of returning to armed conflict now? Have we not learned the benefits of peace?”

“The goblins certainly have not,” Oberon laughed.

His father’s laugh did not fool Myrrdin. He was not piping or dancing. He was displeased, despite his easy manner.

“This all started with the Wee Folk, of all creatures to launch a war!” Myrrdin said in frustration. “They have played their grandest trick of all this time! They broken the world around them wide open, and now the blood will be flowing on all sides.”

“Don’t forget the Kindred,” said Oberon. “They were not innocent. They recklessly released the axe into the hands of the River Folk. They have irresponsibly unbalanced the natural order of both worlds.”

“But it all goes back to the Wee Folk stealing Lavatis,” said Myrrdin. “The Kindred knew the Pact would fail when you had no power to control the Fae. They moved to aid the River Folk and forge a new alliance. The Wild Hunt saw their chance and moved in to scoop up more Jewels. It’s a disaster all the way around.”

Oberon looked at Myrrdin’s staff speculatively. “Where shall thy Jewel stand on the fateful day?”

Myrrdin sputtered. “With the River Folk, as I have pledged,” he cried, scandalized at what his father subtly suggested.

“Even if the River Folk become the central cause of this bloodshed?”

“It is a maelstrom. No one party is to blame. I can’t say Brand is wrong to demand new terms for peace—no more than I can blame you for letting the Blue slip from your fingers.”

Oberon gave him a dark look. He stood and put away his pipes. He touched his forehead with a single long finger of salute. He did not embrace his son before he vanished from the hilltop. Myrrdin did not expect it. They had been no more than civil to each other for years.

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