Norton, Andre - Five Senses 04 - Wind in the Stone by Norton Andre

Author:Norton, Andre [Norton, Andre]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Roca Editorial/Open Road Español
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

16

THOUGH THE PLACE OF LEARNING WAS WROUGHT OF very ancient stone, and, outside on the mountain peaks, winter raged, there was always warmth in the rooms most used, just as provisions seemed to ever be stretched so that no one went underfed from the table. Yet this stronghold was not the serene place for study and service of the Light that it had been built to be those nigh-uncountable centuries ago.

Certainly there was no peace for those who went about their tasks with determined energy. From novice to archmage, the brothers were still searching, but their seeking now lay in a different direction.

Gifford had lost more weight, and his once well-fitted clothing was belted in in rolls and creases about him. He had also developed a nervous habit with his right hand when he sat, as if he were quickly turning the pages of an unseen book.

“They move.” The terse statement was made by Fanquer, who had seemed, during these past months, to become once more the fighting man he had been in his far-off youth—even though he wore no mail nor belted on any sword.

“Yes.” That single monosyllable came from Arch-mage Yost, who had appeared to take on something of the stiff negativity of a phantom.

Gifford lifted his head. The seeds of tears were planted in his eyes, and he did not try to look straight upon any now gathered there.

“No choice.” The old archivist’s voice was as broken as if he stood by the death stone of all he had cherished most. “He has tried—through the Night Steps—to invade us three times. Now he returns to his earliest plan, which was hardly more than an idle fancy when first he thought of it. It must have come home to him that Styrmir, in the end, may answer only to those of its oldest breed. Thus, he has determined to have one such to stand at his right hand.”

“Only there shall be two,” corrected the woman Yvori. “I say to you now, sisters and brothers in the Light, that if one of the twain be taken by Irasmus, the second must go free—and that means only to the Forest.”

Harwice was pacing back and forth along the wide stone hearth. “The Forest may not welcome—”

“Painter,” Yvori interrupted him with a smile, “do not let your fears color you a picture of the future in the somber tones of the storm cloud, without a thread of gold from the returning sun! We of this place have pursued the nurturing of our talents through instruction. However, there are those, and always have been, who are born with the gifts we must strive hard to develop. I say this: the time of death and blight has run too long. We were told by Her Who Calls the Wind that only a people can produce those of their own kind to save them. Now the day arrives when Irasmus will act—but we, also, shall be ready. We cannot save the boy child—the dark mage has woven his web too well.

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