them moaned in pain, and Komir cut his throat with a clean stroke. He watched the blood run down the neck and chest of the man. Half-closing his eyes he looked at the others. For an instant he felt doubts, remorse and guilt at what he was about to do. But if I let them live today, they might kill me tomorrow , he said to himself. Although he knew the deed would blacken his soul, he felt he had no choice, and he finished them off.
Unfortunately, it was much easier than he had expected.
The noise and brightness of the explosion had awakened the neighbors, and lights began to appear in the nearest windows. He did not want to have to explain what had just happened to the city guard, so he decided to disappear in search of his friends.
He ran with one thought in his mind: the medallion had cast a spell with intent and direction. It had not been a mere explosion of energy like the ones he had experienced before, without control or awareness. Komir knew nothing of magic, spells, runes or Phrases of Power, so he could not create magic. But the medallion could and did.
As he thought about it, he realized that his subconscious had wished to activate his own inner power and make something happen. Had the medallion understood what he wanted and acted in consequence? Did that Object of Power have an intelligence of its own? The mere possibility made the hair on his neck stand on end.
This Ilenian medallion can cast spells. It’s a weapon of great power. I must be careful to keep it safe. Very careful.
Along the hidden path
The way up to the summit was turning out difficult, a lot more so than Iruki had initially imagined. It was a day and a half since they had left their horses and begun to climb the overwhelming range in the heart of the Masig steppes. The majestic mountain rose like a rocky island in the middle of a calm sea of colorful vegetation. The highest peak was permanently covered in snow, seeming to melt into the infinite sky which crowned it. It was so high it touched the kingdom from which the gods watched the insignificant lives of mortals.
They had to escape, to go on climbing to the summit in order to hide from the relentless Norghanians who were combing the steppes in pursuit of them. She was aware that they would not stop until they caught them. She and the Assassin had killed Great Duke Orten, the brother of King Thoran of Norghana, and although that serpent had deserved the end he had met at her hand, there would be no pity for them, none at all. They had to hide up there, it was the only way Iruki could see to avoid that devil of a Tracker who had captured them, and whom they had managed to escape from by sheer good luck. Iruki had refused to hide among her people, the Blue Cloud of the Masig. She was trying at all costs to avoid an armed confrontation which would end with the Norghanians decimating her tribe.
Iruki was exhausted. Her aching body was begging her to stop, but she kept on between the boulders very carefully, a slip or a stumble would mean the end of their venture. This was not the first time she had climbed the sacred mountain of her people; her father had shown her the paths and secrets of the ascent of the splendid mountain. But she had never climbed so high and on her own, and it made her feel proud and scared at the same time. They were very near. They would soon reach the Fountain of Life.
If everything went as it should.
She remembered vividly the moment when her father, Kaune Eagle Warrior, had shown her the most precious treasure of their tribe: the sacred fountain which was the origin, the seed of her people. His pride had been almost tangible. It was a holy place for the Masig, the people of the steppes. The sky-blue fountain at the top of the mountain melted into the infinite heavens. The place was so beautiful that Iruki could find no words to describe it. This was where, according to the legends, her beloved people had come from. Those legends were epics full of
Unfortunately, it was much easier than he had expected.
The noise and brightness of the explosion had awakened the neighbors, and lights began to appear in the nearest windows. He did not want to have to explain what had just happened to the city guard, so he decided to disappear in search of his friends.
He ran with one thought in his mind: the medallion had cast a spell with intent and direction. It had not been a mere explosion of energy like the ones he had experienced before, without control or awareness. Komir knew nothing of magic, spells, runes or Phrases of Power, so he could not create magic. But the medallion could and did.
As he thought about it, he realized that his subconscious had wished to activate his own inner power and make something happen. Had the medallion understood what he wanted and acted in consequence? Did that Object of Power have an intelligence of its own? The mere possibility made the hair on his neck stand on end.
This Ilenian medallion can cast spells. It’s a weapon of great power. I must be careful to keep it safe. Very careful.
Along the hidden path
The way up to the summit was turning out difficult, a lot more so than Iruki had initially imagined. It was a day and a half since they had left their horses and begun to climb the overwhelming range in the heart of the Masig steppes. The majestic mountain rose like a rocky island in the middle of a calm sea of colorful vegetation. The highest peak was permanently covered in snow, seeming to melt into the infinite sky which crowned it. It was so high it touched the kingdom from which the gods watched the insignificant lives of mortals.
They had to escape, to go on climbing to the summit in order to hide from the relentless Norghanians who were combing the steppes in pursuit of them. She was aware that they would not stop until they caught them. She and the Assassin had killed Great Duke Orten, the brother of King Thoran of Norghana, and although that serpent had deserved the end he had met at her hand, there would be no pity for them, none at all. They had to hide up there, it was the only way Iruki could see to avoid that devil of a Tracker who had captured them, and whom they had managed to escape from by sheer good luck. Iruki had refused to hide among her people, the Blue Cloud of the Masig. She was trying at all costs to avoid an armed confrontation which would end with the Norghanians decimating her tribe.
Iruki was exhausted. Her aching body was begging her to stop, but she kept on between the boulders very carefully, a slip or a stumble would mean the end of their venture. This was not the first time she had climbed the sacred mountain of her people; her father had shown her the paths and secrets of the ascent of the splendid mountain. But she had never climbed so high and on her own, and it made her feel proud and scared at the same time. They were very near. They would soon reach the Fountain of Life.
If everything went as it should.
She remembered vividly the moment when her father, Kaune Eagle Warrior, had shown her the most precious treasure of their tribe: the sacred fountain which was the origin, the seed of her people. His pride had been almost tangible. It was a holy place for the Masig, the people of the steppes. The sky-blue fountain at the top of the mountain melted into the infinite heavens. The place was so beautiful that Iruki could find no words to describe it. This was where, according to the legends, her beloved people had come from. Those legends were epics full of
Similar Books
The Thomas Berryman Number
James Patterson
My Cousin's Keeper
Simon French
The Spy Princess
Sherwood Smith
Soft in the Head
Marie-Sabine Roger
The Promise of Love
Billi Jean
The Pentrals
Crystal Mack
Claimed By Shadow
Karen Chance
Unfriendly Competition
Jessica Burkhart