The Seventh Magic (Book 3) by Brian Rathbone

Author:Brian Rathbone [Rathbone, Brian]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: White Wolf Press, LLC
Published: 2015-03-01T00:00:00+00:00

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Dragons.

All Sevellon the thief wanted was freedom from dragons, yet no matter what he did, they found him. Whether painted on signs or engraved in furniture, they were inescapable. No matter how far he fled, they chased him down and pinned him beneath hungry gazes. His dreams were thick with them, but a single serpent dominated them all. This dragon was different. It wanted something and would not leave him alone.

Asking Jharmin Kyte to take him back to the Godfist had been among the most difficult things Sevellon had ever done, and it was, in almost every way, against his will. The only part of him that agreed with going back was the part that wanted to remain sane. Every day the dreams had worsened, the urge to throw himself into black water almost too much to resist. Compulsion to get back to the Godfist had overwhelmed all else, including self-preservation. He'd begun to fear sleep. Some people walked while dreaming, and he was afraid he'd wake up cold, wet, and drowning. Leaving Jharmin Kyte's ship, the Wolf's Head, was in many ways sweet parting; in other ways it was terrifying.

Back in Harborton, he was no more welcome than he'd been the last time. Somehow he'd have to get into the Masterhouse, but he had no information, no plans for the construction, no maps, nothing. All he could do was watch the entrances and make notes. Matters of defense often followed schedules and patterns. These fostered vigilance but were also tools the thief could exploit.

Pictures in his mind surfaced, but he forced them back down. If the dragons needed his expertise, then they could very well stop tinkering with his thoughts. Feeling a strong sense of aloneness afterward, he wanted very badly not to admit he missed the presence once it was gone. No matter how much he valued his freedom, having pertinent information pop into your consciousness provided reassurance. In matters of life and death, Sevellon tried not to be picky.

What the dragons wanted with an ugly stone, Sevellon did not know. He'd heard of the sky stone and how the gods had sent it so the Zjhon might defeat the Herald, but it hadn't actually worked out that way. He tried not to put much stock in the words of prophets and minstrels, especially since people still clung to legends already proven false.

Moving from shadow to shadow, Sevellon searched for a place from which he could monitor the Masterhouse. No one was going to bring the sky stone out to him, which meant going in. He'd have to access the most sacred inner chambers and carry a heavy, ugly, and presumably valuable stone away from those who cherished it. This was not a job he'd ever have taken, but choice was no longer his.

". . . need skilled hands," a man said.

Peeking around the corner, Sevellon spotted a tall guard lingering near the blacksmith shop.

"What for?"

"The masters want the same kind of comforts within the Masterhouse as are available within Dragonhold.

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