Wurts, Janny - Wars of Light and Shadow 06 - Peril's Gate by Wurts Janny

Author:Wurts, Janny [Wurts, Janny]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Speculative Fiction
ISBN: 9780061054679
Publisher: Eos
Published: 2001-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

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Back on Daon Ramon Barrens, naked to the skin, the Sorceref Davien rubbed his hands down the lean, muscled line of his flanks. Then, bothered by the nagging pull of a cramp, he clasped his immaculate, artist's fingers and stretched linked arms over his head. The flex of his lips held both sorrow and irony as he cast a glance eastward, and murmured, 'My dear, the lesson was harshly unpleasant, but needful. You will certainly think twice before you wield the power of your order, or poke prying hands into Fellowship business again.'

Supremely untroubled by the blasting wind, or by the last wisping snowfall that dewed his pale skin and flecked spangling flakes amid tumbled, cinnabar hair, Davien closed his dark eyes.

He dispatched a ranging thought to the east, and assured himself that Elaira's spirit had returned without harm to her body. She would waken shortly in the hostel near Eastwall, secure within the adept's sacred grove, and none the worse for her spiritwalk in Daon Ramon.

Then, freed to attend to more pressing matters, the Sorcerer regarded the blanketed form of Earl Jieret, lashed wrist and ankle before him.

Davien's knife-sharp brows gathered into a frown. He bent, his questing touch light as a ghost's, and ascertained the clan chieftain was unconscious. Pulse and breathing were regular. The caithdein's condition was stressed, his body dehydrated from blood loss, but in no threat of imminent collapse. Faultlessly gentle, the Betrayer turned the man's head. He straightened the snarled clan braid, then stroked the soot-streaked, snake locks of loosened hair from the chieftain's cheek and forehead. 'Brave one, take my promise, you won't suffer alone any longer.'

Last, his formed will made manifest as an intricate tracery of light, the Sorcerer imprinted the cipher to summon Traithe's raven against the caithdein's stilled brow.

He added a whispered blessing, then finished, 'Act wisely and well.'

Davien straightened up. His flesh by now stung to a blush by the cold, he tipped back his head. The aquiline jut of his profile formed a stamped cameo against the black rock of the outcrop as a poised second passed. Then a soundless explosion of light ripped his male figure into formless static. The sparks winked and faded. In their place, an eagle shot upward, winging purposefully northward into the waning night.

Behind, flurried in a backwash of winnowed snow, the raptor left the elegant, clear imprint of two naked human feet.

Shortly there came a gyrating wind, which blurred their edges, then fully erased them.

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