A Play of Shadow by Julie E. Czerneda

Author:Julie E. Czerneda [Czerneda, Julie E.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy
ISBN: 9780756408312
Google: GqDToAEACAAJ
Amazon: 0756408318
Barnesnoble: 0756408318
Goodreads: 20893343
Publisher: DAW Trade
Published: 2014-01-02T00:00:00+00:00

Bannan winced at the loud thud from above. Werfol must have thrown himself on the bed. “That went about as badly as possible,” he said, running a hand through his hair.

Jenn gave him a sympathetic look. She’d gone down on the rug to help Semyn and Tir find the fragments of what had been, from the look of the silver and ebony, an extremely fine flute.

Doubtless the very one for which Frann had traded Marrowdell’s ash.

“Uncle. It can’t be fixed. Not here.” Semyn held out his hand, palm up, and on it were two halves of what had been a key. “We’d need an expert with this kind of flute. A master silversmith. Even Vorkoun doesn’t have those skilled enough.”

Something Emon’s son would know. “Then we’ll find those who are,” Bannan promised. “Let’s have everything in the case, Semyn, and leave it with me.”

Tir gave him a warning look, but Ancestors Set and Determined, the shining trust in the boy’s eyes was worth whatever he’d have to do. The Lady Mahavar would know who in Avyo to use.

Spring seemed farther away than ever.

“I believe that’s all of them—oh. Thank you,” Jenn said as silver glinted in midair, floating into her outstretched hand.

“Sir!” Tir scanned the room, then lifted a foot as if worried where to step. “Where is he?”

“Where you needn’t worry.” Bannan gave the dragon credit. It couldn’t be easy to inhabit a room full of people. “My thanks, Wisp.”

Semyn looked around too, then sat, shoulders slumped. He glanced upward. “I shouldn’t have been angry. I’ve upset—”

A scream tore through the house, high-pitched and terrified. Werfol!

Bannan ran to the ladder, jumped to hook his fingers in the opening and heave himself through. “What is it? Are you hurt?”

The boy lay on the floor by the bed, on top of—on top of the mirror that should have been wrapped and safely out of sight under the bed! It wasn’t wrapped now.

Nor did it reflect the ceiling or the boy.

A detail he hardly took in, frantic to determine why Werfol wasn’t moving. No bump on his head—

Like Frann. Bannan’s heart hammered in his chest. It wasn’t the same. It couldn’t be the same. “Werfol. Dear Heart!”

Werfol groaned, then spoke. What he said chilled Bannan to the bone. “Momma! Look out!!”

“‘Momma?’” Fighting dread, Bannan looked at the mirror.

Daylight in the room.

. . . Night in the mirror. Huge lamps, their shapes exotic and strange, splashed yellow over stone and rippled in dark water. A wall, nearby.

Nothing moved in the room.

. . . Everything moved in the mirror, as if he were moving. No, running, as lamps came close then fell behind. Turning corners. Water alongside. Always water. A bridge arched over. Staircase led up.

. . . There! The glint of steel and armor!

“They’re coming! Momma! No!”

Somehow, Bannan pulled his eyes away. Taking hold of the unconscious boy, he pulled him away too.

Lila’s pendant bounced against the mirror.

Which reflected a ceiling.

And daylight in a room.

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