Curse of the Shadowmage (The Harpers) by Mark Anthony

Author:Mark Anthony [Anthony, Mark]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
ISBN: 9780786964260
Publisher: Wizards of the Coast Publishing
Published: 2012-11-27T00:00:00+00:00

Twelve

Isela served them soup as they huddled around a dancing fire. The night was cold, and Isela’s dwelling offered scant protection from the frosty autumn air. The witch made her home in a chamber of what Morhion supposed was once a palace. Only three of the chamber’s walls still stood, and the roof had collapsed in one corner.

The witch shoved a rudely carved wooden bowl into Morhion’s hands. “Eat, wizard,” she said curtly. “You will need your strength for what lies ahead.”

The mage gave Isela a curious look. She made a peculiar figure, with her straggly gray hair, her craggy face, her bony form huddled inside a shapeless mass of dirty rags. Yet the keen light of intelligence in her eyes was unmistakable. Whatever the witch Isela was, she was not crazy. Morhion did not feel hungry—his head ached fiercely from the wound on his brow—but he did his best to eat some of the soup, so as not to offend Isela. The broth was flavored with strange herbs and contained the meat of an animal he did not recognize.

Cormik cautiously stirred his own bowl. “I really hate to complain—”

“Then I suggest you don’t,” Jewel interrupted, digging an elbow into his side as she glanced at Isela.

He shot her a perturbed look. “It’s only a figure of speech, Jewel. You know perfectly well that I actually love to complain.”

“Really, Cormik,” she chided him, “you have no idea what you’re missing.” She scooped up a large spoonful of soup, including the scaly foot of some nameless creature, and ate it with relish. After that, Cormik made only gagging noises, and the others were able to eat in peace.

It was Kellen who broke the silence. “Isela, why do you think I’m the one mentioned in the prophecy?”

Isela fixed him with her piercing gaze. “I do not think you are the one, child. You are the one.” She shook her head wearily, passing a gnarled hand before her eyes. “But I had no idea you would be so long in coming. How I have longed to lie down upon the forest floor, to let my bones sink deep into the ground and nourish my beloved trees. Still I waited, as I was pledged to do.” She lifted her gaze once more to Kellen’s face. “And now my waiting is over at last. The prophecy has come to pass.”

“But what is the prophecy?” Kellen asked.

When Isela finally spoke, it was in an eerie whisper. “Long, long ago, in an age now lost in the mists of time, there was a great oracle who was a leader of his people, a tribe of the Talfirc. The oracle journeyed to this place and said that, one day, there would come a child marked by magic, in whose hands would lie the fate of all the Talfirc. The child would come on a quest to stop a great darkness. Someone must await his coming, to aid him when he was in need. So the Talfirc built a city here, and they called it Talis.

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