Newcomb, Robert - Blood and Stone 01 - The Fifth Sorceress by Newcomb Robert

Author:Newcomb, Robert [Newcomb, Robert]
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Tags: Fiction, General, Fantasy Fiction, Fantasy, Epic
ISBN: 9780345448927
Google: uClzcESJTNAC
Amazon: 0345448928
Barnesnoble: 0345448928
Publisher: Del Rey
Published: 2002-07-29T04:00:00+00:00

“And I say once again to you that if the blood stalkers and screaming harpies had never been released, the prince and the Lead Wizard would be dead today!” Succiu exclaimed as Vona and Zabarra looked on aghast, neither of them ever having seen her address Failee so angrily. “We repeatedly warned you about the dangers of recalling them when we first planned the attack. If the old one and the Directorate had not been alerted to the presence of your now-useless creatures from the distant past, we could have finished our job that day on the dais properly. But instead, because of your unnecessary need for revenge, now we must contend with the fact that Wigg and Tristan are both still alive, and probably trying to make their way to Shadowood.”

Succiu glared at each of the women at the table in turn, and then down to Geldon, who was, as usual, at her feet, chained to the iron ring in the marble floor of the chamber. He tried to look away. He had never before seen her this angry, and he didn’t wish to draw any more attention to himself than was necessary. As it was, he was sure that at least one poor slave from the Stables would pay for her foul mood before the night was over.

The four mistresses of the Coven had been sitting at the five-pointed table in the chamber for over an hour now, and despite Succiu’s criticisms, Failee seemed almost happily unconcerned. The First Mistress had uncharacteristically listened patiently, almost politely, as Succiu had arrogantly gone on and on, blaming Failee for their Eutracian mission’s having not been completely successful. But now the dwarf could see that Failee had begun to tire of Succiu’s faultfinding, and he lowered his head in anticipation of what was to come next. Nonetheless, Succiu pressed her argument.

“Even the wiktor that Sister Natasha and I arranged to intercept the prince and the wizard at the palace gates has presumably been killed,” she continued, driving home her point. “No one has accomplished that before. And, worse yet, there has been no contact from Natasha. We have no choice but to assume that she is lost, too.” The second mistress looked down at her nails for a moment, remembering the fatalistic look on Tristan’s face when Kluge had chained him. Her demeanor changed to one of inward, rather than outward, concern. “We have seriously underestimated the Chosen One,” she said, almost softly, “and we must now take pains to be sure that neither he nor the wizard can interfere in our undertakings. To fail to dispose of them could mean the loss of everything.”

Failee let out a long, almost bored sigh, rose from the table, and walked slowly to the fireplace at the opposite side of the room. It was early evening, and the flames danced merrily outward from the hearth, adding to the warmth created by the wall sconces and chandeliers that burned so brightly. The First Mistress ran

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