Jon Wilson - The Obsidian Man by Jon Wilson

Author:Jon Wilson [Wilson, Jon]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

It was bad enough coming from the stonediver; that was to be expected. Her dealings with the airy mystics, few though she kept them, had long since taught her to expect nothing comprehendible. But Sihr was little more than a child herself. Why had she done such a thing? Why risk the boy’s sanity, not to mention her own? To heal him? Ardee cursed. That type always spoke of aiding others; what wanton lies! Wasn’t their attraction to the stones nothing but selfishness? Delving the depths did not expand your awareness; it closed you off. It separated you from life and the living. From love.

“You confuse yourself, Laesombea. These thoughts follow no path. Good enough for whiling away the hours, but they will lead you nowhere.”

Now the troll too. “Stay out of my mind, Bill. I’ve snapped spines for less.”

He laughed, if one could call it that. The jirranmirth was sometimes indistinguishable from their sorrow. And most trolls had a sense of humor about equal to her own. “I have no feel for such things,” he told her. “But your feet and your eyes and your pathetic little feldysh mouth, they tell me much. Again, is it true you humans sometimes exchange expressions of your passion by joining your mouths?”

Ardee shook her head. “Not me.”Not for many, many years.“I think I have seen such a thing.”

“I would very much like a chance to see it. Before I die.”

They walked on—slow for them, but in a few moments they were a mile from the village. “Can you tell me no more?” she asked at last.

“No. If G’nash as yet rides the slope of MountGir, I may know more in three days.”

“You mustn’t go there if you fear any danger.”

“The Huerunan will not kill adthakof Yul. Not on aj’ranna.” He looked up at the sky. The snow had stopped, but the clouds were low, nearly as claustrophobic as the walls of the town had been. “Perhaps not at all in these times. Soon the existence of the jirranmay depend upon our numbers.”

Ardee found she could not speak of such things. “But thekaolsay the demon is still here, somewhere beyond the lands of the Huerunan?”

“Thekaoldo notsayanything,” he told her wryly. “They scream. But from what I can understand of them, the demon was badly maimed in his fight with the troll-killer. He waits for his wounds to heal. And they say he controls the minds of many Huerunan huntresses. This I believe. They are a simpleminded folk. Not unlike thefeldysh.”

“Thank you.”

“I said only that you had a feldysh mouth. You are no more feldysh than I, you and the stonediver.”

“We should have brought him along. He shares many such strange notions.”

Bill stopped, turning to face her. Her movements synchronized with his, she stopped also. “No. The path you forged tonight shall remain a week. With the stonediver here feeding your fury, you might have marred the forest forever. Also, if I am to share acajir with thedthakof G’nash, I must carry no scent of the Danann.

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