Mistress of the Solstice (Myth and Magic) by Anna Kashina

Author:Anna Kashina [Kashina, Anna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy
ISBN: 9780983832041
Publisher: Dragonwell Publishing
Published: 2013-09-04T04:00:00+00:00

The path was so thin that at times it was hard to find through the wavering grass. Obviously, Bayun’s lair was not popular with visitors.

The mighty oak squatted on the hilltop like a monstrous bird on its perch, spreading wing-like branches over its wide nesting grounds. The earth rose under the pull of the massive roots, forming a hill as if by the sheer will of the ancient tree. It was hard to imagine that anything might have been there before the tree. Even the rocks, bared by the cliff behind it, looked small and uncertain by comparison, as if knobby root fingers had tucked them into place to finish off the impressive roost.

As Ivan made his way up the hill, he saw no movement. The path on the hill became more defined, curving around the tree like a loose rope thrown carelessly into the thick grass. It was barely visible in the long evening shadows.

Ivan paused, waiting.

“Anyone home?” he asked carefully.

There was a rustle in the branches above his head and, moments later, the ground on his left shook noiselessly. Even then, it appeared as if the large shape that blocked the waning sunlight had grown out of the grass, instead of dropping from the branches above. Its movements, though they looked slow and lazy in their quality, were so swift they were hard for the eye to follow.

Ivan stared.

It looked like a very large house cat, smaller than Wolf, yet too big to be confused with an ordinary animal. Sitting down, its head reached just above Ivan’s waist. Its long fur was pitch-black, outlined against the blood-red sunset like a halo of darkness. Then Ivan saw the eyes.

The creature’s eyes were jewel green and they shone out of the blackness, as if emanating a light of their own, bright even against the sunset background. Ivan shivered under their gaze as if he’d been burned with cold green hellfire.

It was the most beautiful creature Ivan had ever seen.

The giant cat stirred.

“Ivan the Fool of the Twelfth Kingdom,” he mused. His voice was soft and deep, like a purr. He seemed to whisper, yet the sound echoed through Ivan like thunder.

A cat’s face filled Ivan’s vision and he saw, for a brief moment, a pink tongue flick out of its mouth lo lick razor-sharp fangs. Then it was gone.

“What do you seek, boy?” Bayun whispered. “What tale do you want to hear? Perhaps, of your own deeds turned into a song? Listen…”

The soft purr of his voice filled Ivan’s ears. The cat’s voice drew, no less captivating, than the green of his gaze. Instead of words, images filled Ivan’s head, as if he was watching events take place in front of his eyes. No, not watching—acting. Living them through the soft purr of the cat’s tale.

The evening smell of damp grass filled Ivan’s nostrils. He was no longer on the hilltop under the giant oak. He was facing the oak, but the oak was gnarled, looming over the straight path that led to the castle wall.

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