The Lost Heiress by Catherine Fisher

Author:Catherine Fisher [Fisher, Catherine]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Social Science, Action & Adventure, Apprentices, Juvenile Fiction, Antiquities, Fantasy & Magic, Fiction, Fantasy, General, Archaeology, Business; Careers; Occupations
ISBN: 0803736746
Google: hzhZg6eiraEC
Amazon: 0803736746
Publisher: Dial
Published: 2011-06-14T04:00:00+00:00

14

Out of the Pit came disease. For leagues around, the trees died; grasses curled.

Unseasonal frosts split the rocks. The

Makers abandoned their works. In

Tasceron they brooded on the treachery of Kest.

Book of the Seven Moons

IT WAS THE WRECKAGE OF A WORLD.

The hill that Raffi stood on descended into swamp, a green decaying morass stretching as far as he could see, humped and hollowed, dissolving into poisonous yellow mist. Thunder cracked and rumbled; at the horizon were vast jagged ranges, as if mountains had surged up and shattered into sharp slopes. Even the weather was evil, an icy, spitting rain.

The Sekoi shivered. “Chaos creeps in on us.”

“Indeed it does.” Galen stood upright in the chill wind, staring out. “Year by year the Unfinished Lands creep back, undoing the Makers’ works. Spreading like a disease.”

“I see no island out there, keeper.”

Galen looked over. “Nor do I.”

“Will it not have been destroyed, like the rest?”

“Maybe.” He stared again into the mist. “But I believe it is there, somewhere. Hard to find. Dangerous. If you don’t share that faith, I won’t blame you if you don’t come.”

Raffi watched them both. The Sekoi rubbed sleet from its furred face. It glanced back up the hillside. Then it shrugged, unhappy. “I’ll come. For the moment.”

“We’ll find it.” Abruptly Galen stalked off down the slope.

The Sekoi stared after him. “I’m glad you’re so sure,” it said.

Half an hour later, the stink of the mere choking him, Raffi leaned on a rock to catch his breath. They were at the bottom of the slope. Already the ground was soft, oozing with water. “I thought this was moorland?” he gasped.

“Swallowed up.” Galen stabbed the mire with his stick. “Kest’s work, all of this. Once he began to meddle with the world, changing things, no one could stop it. Only the Order fought to keep the balance, kept it so for centuries. But since the Watch destroyed us, all that’s lost.”

“It makes you wonder,” Raffi said suddenly, looking up. “What if the Watch is Kest’s work too?”

Galen’s glance turned him cold, stabbed him. He felt the shock of it, the tingle of power that he knew was some stirring of the Crow. For an instant the scream of migrating birds rang like alien voices. Galen’s eyes were sharp and dark. But all he said was, “I sometimes think so.”

“Relic Master!”

The yell made them turn.

A row of horses stood on the hillcrest, high above. From the central one a small figure was grinning down at them. “How are you, Galen Harn?” he called, his voice ringing among the rocks.

The Sekoi spat, and snarled something in its own language.

“Keep still,” Galen muttered. Then he called back, “I’m well, thief-lord. But you’re too far from home.”

Alberic’s war-band smirked; one of them said something and they all laughed. Raffi let his sense-lines play over them; he felt weapons, a ruthless confidence. They weren’t worried.

Alberic waved an arm at the marsh. “You seem to be running into trouble.” He was wearing a coat of quilted blue satin and bearskin, his small, clever face mocking.

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