Into the Dark Lands Read Free

it? He never asked aloud the questions that burned at his scholar’s mind. She had spent five years, lost to them ...
    â€œThey grow bold,” the Lady murmured. “Twenty miles?”
    â€œInside our territory.”
    â€œDid any survive?”
    He looked away and therefore missed the subtle change of her expression. “No. But five at least called their own deaths. None were taken by the enemy.”
    â€œCordan?”
    â€œOne of the five, Lady. I’m sorry.”
    She turned away, her movements still regal and controlled. “Has anyone informed Kerlinda?”
    â€œKandor has gone to speak with her.”
    â€œI see.” She said no more, but turned again, knowing that even she could not hide the look that transformed her face. If
she had the courage, she would inform her daughter of the death herself; but this she could not face. It had started, yes, but the beginning had been the easiest.
    Â 
    It was dark, but the storms of the day had finally passed. Stars glimmered through the open windows, their blinking light no longer obscured by dense clouds.
    Erin crept out of her bed. She glanced quickly at the crack of muted light beneath the door to her square, plain room.
    Mother’s still awake.
    Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to move silently. Crady had been teaching her that; she still felt warm when she thought of how loudly—and long—he’d approved her progress.
    But it wasn’t for silence that she practiced now.
    She crossed her legs beneath her and raised her small arms. In the dark, she began to draw a large half circle in the air.
    The creak of a door interrupted her concentration, and she dove for the bed, heart pounding audibly. She waited a moment, then relaxed. Her mother wasn’t coming; not yet anyway.
    In a few minutes she found her way back to the floor and began to concentrate in earnest.
    I almost did it yesterday.
    Minutes passed while she tried to focus. It wasn’t easy; fear that her mother would find her awake kept drawing her mind to the sound of steps on the floor below. But her father was coming back soon, and she desperately wanted to have something real to show him.
    Come on. Light.
    Her hands traced their silent pattern across the air, and she found the courage to utter an audible syllable.
    Nothing happened.
    I know I almost had it yesterday.
    She tried again, with no results. Frustration warred with determination, and determination won—but only barely. For all her seriousness, she was still a child.
    Arms passed in front of her again, but this time she forced herself to relax. She could feel the shape of the night surrounding her, feel the tingling at the base of her spine. She just wasn’t sure how to use it.
    Light. Light to cure darkness.
    The words were comfortable because she’d heard them so often. She relaxed, starting yet again.
    The room was lit by a gentle green glow that touched the
outline of bed, chair, and windowsill. In confusion she looked outside and saw that night still claimed the land.
    I did it!
    She laughed—she couldn’t help it—but very quietly. Her mother was going to be pleased; her father proud. No one else her age had yet managed to bring the light up at command. Dannen was close, but it didn’t matter anymore—she’d done it first.
    Remembering her mother’s stem admonition to sleep, she crawled back into bed, letting her feet dangle over the edge. She tried to lie down, but excitement made her bolt upward again. If she could show her mother what she could do, maybe she wouldn’t be angry.
    I could wait till morning.
    She pulled the covers up under her chin.
    But I want to tell her now.
    The covers fell away. Maybe her mother wouldn’t be happy at first—but surely once she saw the light, she’d forgive Erin.
    That decided, she walked slowly to the door. Her hand trembled on the knob, but she opened it, allowing the firelight from the