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coward.
"I have to get back," he said anxiously.
"Another day or two at most," Vena said.
"At least let me get up and walk about outside."
"No, my love," Vena said soothingly. "The demons know that you are hiding someplace in these hills.
They have not stopped searching. I have snuck out at dusk to gather herbs for your broth, and every time
I leave I can see them circling. You are still a bit shaky, you could make a mistake out there and be seen.
You see, my dear, you might have the power of a god, but my father taught me woodcraft, and I think I
know a bit more about such things than you."
Her voice filled with a note of pride as she spoke. Smiling, Imada found he could not argue with her.
"And speaking of broth, I've made some for you." As she left his bed, the fire's glow cast its light on her
long legs and taut, rounded body. Her hair swayed provocatively as she walked across the room toward
a small cauldron. She scooped out a greenish foam into a wood bowl and brought it back to him.
Playfully, he reached out to her, his arms encircling her waist as she sat down.
"My, you certainly are regaining your strength. But drink this first. It's good for you and will drive out any
nightmares you might still have."
Leaning over, she brought the bowl to his lips. The drink was pungent, with a faint bitterness that made
him wrinkle his nose.
Even before he had finished, the kaleidoscope of colors returned, washing over him like the lapping of
waves upon the beach.
He looked up into Vena's eyes, which looked at him with a knowing gaze.
"When you wake up," she whispered, "you'll feel strong enough to travel. In fact you will find yourself
already on the way home."
He could barely see her now.
"We'll always love each other, won't we, Imada?"
He tried to nod but he wasn't even sure anymore if he could move.
"You'll dream only of what we have talked about: How you fought demons in the glade and came to
rescue me. And of course you'll dream most wonderfully of what we have done here alone."
He sighed and drifted away.
Standing, she swept up her gown and refastened the clasps.
She heard a door open and the echo of footsteps. A shadow appeared in the entryway, which had been
so cunningly hidden to make the room appear to truly be a darkened cave.
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"He's ready," Patrice said. "As soon as our informant passes the word from Landra we'll move him to
the drop-off point. Until then make sure he stays drugged and asleep."
Vena looked down at Imada and smiled softly, almost feeling a twinge of regret for deceiving him.
Without comment, Patrice turned away and left the room, Vena following in her wake.
Patrice looked over her shoulder at Vena. Despite the centuries of service the sorcerer had given her,
she could almost suspect the beginning of a bond between the two.
Perhaps that was for the best. Through Imada's miraculous return, Vena would be infiltrated first into
Allic's circle, and from there into Jartan's court.
He would have to report to Landra itself with such information. The memory wash had been thorough,
so no amount of mental probing could break that. It was Vena's cover that would still be tricky. Tonight
her memory would be washed as well, her mind and identity changed over completely to the real Vena,
who had actually been captured in the raid staged on the border village months ago. The girl had been
difficult to break, Patrice thought dryly, but all the necessary details of her life had been wrung from her
before they were finished.
Now the new Vena would assume all those memories into the core of her soul and not just act them as
she had been doing the last three months. If her mind was probed, there would not be the slightest cause
for concern.
Once in Jartan's court, Patrice's agents would bring Vena out of her memory wash when the time came
so that she could perform her real mission--to steal the Fire Crystals, so that the set would be complete,
and to take as well the Portal Gem of Horat, which would open pathways into whatever universes
Patrice desired.
She looked over at "Vena," whom she had known for so long as Ulinda. Ulinda had certainly loved the
new form created for her, but then, the aging crone had always loved it when Patrice had worked her
spells and made her momentarily young once again.
It was as always an excellent lever for keeping her under control.
Patrice smiled at her companion. "You seemed to enjoy your little playtime today," she said, in an open,
almost humorous tone.
"It is hard not to, with him," Vena replied, her guard slipping. "He's so innocent and trusting."
"You'll learn different before this is done."
Suddenly nervous, Vena looked at her mistress. But there was no anger or jealousy on her face--only an
almost wistful sadness.
Patrice's hand reached out to brush Vena's hair back from her eyes.
"Come with me, my dear. It's time we finished my work with you." Together the two slipped out of the
room.
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Chapter 5
He had grown to love the North, Giorgini reflected, standing at the crest of the hill overlooking the
harbor. The cliffs of the fjord reflected the light of the rising sun and the interplay of reddish glow with the
darkness of the areas still in shadow made it a scene of pristine beauty.
The water was still unfrozen, although shards of ice in the harbor forewarned of the coming winter. At
that time the normal hulled vessels would be beached and the ice schooners would be brought out.
In many ways both the land and the people were what he thought the Scandinavian countries of his own
world must be like. Although Earth never had the special crops and trees adapted to the winter climate
the way this world did. Hell, even the moss that grew on the rocks was edible.
The cold wind gusted suddenly and brought tears to his eyes, and he hastily raised his shield a little.
Sorcerers up here had no trouble keeping warm even on the coldest days, at least as long as they could [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]