Of Shadow Born 4 by Sylvan Dianne

Author:Sylvan, Dianne [Sylvan, Dianne]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Fantasy, Contemporary, Fiction
ISBN: 9781101622056
Publisher: Penguin
Published: 2013-03-26T07:00:00+00:00

* * *

The deep stench of charred wood and flesh was beginning to dissipate from the ruins of the Cloister, but a silence hung over the blackened walls, both sorrowful and expectant.

Here in the Northwest the nights were cold, the damp an ever-present cloak over the redwoods, and while it was never entirely silent, the remains of the holy place caught hold of the quiet and held it close.

A small group of huddled figures moved among the ruins, looking for anything worth salvaging, but the fire had been ferocious, and there was little left besides the walls themselves.

One of the searchers, a dark-skinned woman in a black robe, paused in her grim work and stood apart from the others for a moment, hand to her face in grief.

She didn’t hear the step behind her, but she felt the stake’s point at her back.

“Easy,” he said softly. “Don’t cry out.”

The hatred in her voice was iron-edged, but she kept it low as she said, “You have no right to set foot on these lands.”

“I am aware of that, Xara.”

“What do you want?” she hissed. “What more can you possibly do to us?”

Deven drew up close to her and said into her ear, “Never, ever ask that question.”

He stood behind her, watching the other members of the Order, most of whom he recognized, if not by name, then by face. Xara’s heart was hammering, her breath shallow with terror—despite her anger, she still feared him, and rightly so.

“Have you been through Eladra’s quarters yet?”

Xara shook her head.

“Good. Walk with me. There’s something there I need.”

Her eyes on the others, she did as she was told, carefully picking her way among the fallen timbers, following his lead until they reached what was left of the High Priestess’s rooms.

Here, the fire had not been as destructive; parts of some of the furniture still stood, and the Order would probably find a number of artifacts that were still useful.

“She trusted you,” Xara said, tears in her voice now. “How could you do this?”

“Eladra foresaw her fate long ago. She made peace with it. If you’re going to lead them, so must you. I’m not here to ask your forgiveness, Xara . . . I don’t deserve or want it. Now, pick up that box.”

She bent over a pile of debris and, with hands shaking violently, brushed aside wood and ash to reveal a half-hidden silver coffer.

“Your ring,” he commanded quietly.

Nodding, Xara held her right hand to the lid of the box, her priestess’s ring fitting into the lock; it clicked open, and she lifted the lid.

“A Speaking Stone?” she asked. “What do you want with this?”

He reached around her and took the palm-sized piece of polished labradorite from its cushion of velvet. “I need to make a call.”

She drew a shuddering breath. “Are you going to kill me now?”

Deven reached up and touched the side of her face, kissed her softly on the cheek. “I know it changes nothing, Xara, but . . . I’m sorry.

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