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.The ramifications of her claim, however incredulous, reverberated in his mind."When I first sent my agents into this land, they told me of the Oracles of the Hidden Circle and the powerful divinations and prophecies of which they were capable.Then they told me of High Oracle Sameska and I chose to study her from a distance.The old woman's thirst for power and influence was admirable and her control over her subjects was impressive, but her relationship with her god had dwindled almost to nothing.So, in her quiet moments alone, trying desperately to renew her faith and maintain her position among the oracles," Morgynn looked at Quin mischievously, "I gave Savras back to her.I shaped the landscape of my dominion over this Reach by eliminating the one threat that might have seen me coming."And you—well, you should have moved on after slaying Mahgra.Your part in the prophecy was to make it more palatable." She stood close to him, looking him up and down again."Allowing room for hope makes it easier to keep a victim lying still, don't you agree?"Once again, Quin looked away from Morgynn, staring into shadows that played along the floor, contemplating how he might escape his magical bonds and slay the haughty sorceress and her sharp-toothed servant.She spun away from him and lit several more candles close to the wooden bowl of reddish water.The sudden light filled the spaces between the bones, bringing Quin's attention back to the chamber.His eyes rested on something shining beneath the remains of Jhareat's fallen combatants.A strange glow burned there that belied the rust and corrosion of the ruined weapons around it."Ah," Morgynn's voice was low and sonorous, filling the room as she watched the images in the bowl with rapt attention."It begins even now."An incessant chant echoed from the bowl, crawling through Quin's ears as he recalled Elisandrya telling him the legend of Jhareat's fate.Though he'd dismissed the tale as fanciful before, now he wondered.Thunder rumbled and shook the floor as he studied what appeared to be the exposed corner of a truly remarkable shield.CHAPTER TWENTY-TWOThe wind felt alive, tearing at heavy cloaks and twisting around the hunters upon the west wall, threatening to toss them aside like weightless trifles in its fury.Many gripped the battlements as they waited to see the source of the deep chant that emanated from the trees, growing stronger by the heartbeat.One by one, pale faces began to emerge between the trunks, indistinct and blurry through the rain, but staring with bright, hungry eyes.A cluster of trees shook violently and unholy roars pealed from the darkness.The sounds of the unseen beasts bespoke of huge throats and myriad imagined monsters in the minds of Brookhollow's defenders.Their grim reverie was interrupted, however, by a new chant that arose behind them, within the walls.Surprised faces turned in time to watch a solemn procession of the Ghedia walking toward the wall, their outstretched hands glowing deep green with summoned power.The old language of the Shaar, intermingled and woven into their casting, was seldom heard among the border towns and evoked images of rolling grasslands and ritual hunting grounds.Few among the defenders had ever seen such a sight.The legends and tales of older times were told often enough to stir the blood with memories of savage warriors and proud leaders.The burgeoning fear was quelled by the chant of the Ghedia, and weapons were turned to face the unknown enemy.Elisandrya leaped up a ladder, climbing quickly to stand by the stoic Zakar, who greeted her with little more than a silent nod.Breathing heavily, Eli unslung her bow and stood fast, ready to give face and form to those who would threaten her home.The concept of home struck her strangely at that moment.For so long, she had only run away from and denied her place in Brookhollow.Now, after so many years, the town was all she had, her only connection to a family destroyed by the ambitions and fears of an old woman.Three of the Ghedia accompanied Lesani to the old gates.Completing a spell, they pressed their hands upon the wood, compelling the magic to fill its length and width, pushing power through its depth until the walls shook with force.The whorls and knots in the gate faded and thickened, groaning as they grew as strong and dense as stone, a barrier even a giant might not easily fell.The other shamans divided into two groups.Standing an arm's length from one another, they did the same for the wooden and stone walls.They called roots from the ground to brace the battlements in a grip that creaked mightily as it took effect.Once-loose stones were wrapped in an immovable embrace, cracks sealed themselves, and thick masses of tough vines braced the edges along the ground.Mud bubbled and churned under the strain, but the thick clay beneath held strong.Atop the wall, Eli watched as figures bearing devilish faces, like stylized helms or masks, appeared in two groups along the treeline [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]