The Ring of Eman Vath by Hal Emerson

Author:Hal Emerson [Emerson, Hal]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: fantasy, magic, sword and sorcery, epic fantasy, sorcery, mage, ring, staff, hal emerson
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

She returned to Owain much the worse for wear.

Everyone else had left by now for dinner, which, as far as AmyQuinn was concerned, was a very good thing. She hobbled along the long corridor to the Magery teaching hall, trying not to wince or hold her backside, very grateful that she did not have an audience. She did not think she would be sitting down comfortably for at least a week; Taliana had quite a strong arm.

At first, she thought the teaching hall was deserted. The fire had died down to nothing more than a bank of embers, and the room had been plunged into a kind of twilight. It looked strange – almost as though the room itself was sleeping. Had Master Owain forgotten that he’d told her to return? Maybe he was gone, eating at the upper dining hall with the full Sorev Ael and other Masters –

“You took your time. Come here.”

The voice rang out from the direction of the fire, and it made AmyQuinn jump. She immediately regretted her lack of control: a fresh wave of pain made her backside feel like it was on fire, and she only just managed to stifle a groan.

She hobbled forward in the direction of the voice. When she was at the edge of the carpet, she stopped, as she always did.

“Come,” Owain said imperiously.

Wary, AmyQuinn reached out and put a white-booted toe on the edge of the carpet, unsure. When he didn’t protest, she continued forward and then rounded the side of the tall wing-backed chair. She stopped when Master Owain was in plain sight and waited. Slowly, he moved his eyes away from the dying fire and caught her in his gaze. “Sit if you’d like,” he said.

She grimaced and shook her head. “I’ll stand.”

He smiled then – almost a smirk – and she felt a sudden urge to punch him too.

“Who brought you to us?” he asked with no preamble.

“Master?”

“Who brought you to Var Athel,” he clarified.

“A – Sorev Ael,” she said, surprised by the question. “Named Valinor.”

His eyes widened and his eyebrows rose. “That explains much and more,” he said, his voice colored with an emotion she couldn’t decipher. A long moment passed wherein he stroked his short gray beard, and then abruptly he seemed to decide something. He spoke again: “Do you know who he is? Do you know what it means that you were brought here by him?”

She frowned.

“He’s… a Sorev Ael,” she replied. Owain nodded encouragingly, but she had to stop there. What else could she say about him? What he wore? That he’d helped save Dunlow? None of that told her who he was. Why had she thought she knew him? They’d barely talked the entire journey to Var Athel.

But then something in her mind clicked. It was like a puzzle with a simple answer that, once you saw it, became perfectly clear: Valinor calling the flame, Valinor extinguishing it; Valinor’s ruby ring shining like fire in the sun…

“He’s a Mage.”

Owain nodded slowly, still watching with the full intensity of his gaze.

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