Spellbreakers Read Free Page B

winged creatures, powerful in green magic, said to be found
solely in wild, undisturbed forests. They seldom have any contact with humans.
Elvers are altogether more substantial, flightless creatures, found almost
exclusively in the northern kingdoms. They do not fear humans at all, being
quite comparable in size and physical prowess, and considerably more adroit in
the use of an earthy but quite valuable form of green magic. The two races are
loosely related, it is true, but either breed would resent the confusion. You
might want to keep that in mind, if ever you meet any.”
    He gave her another of those considering under-brow
glances, and Leal was sure that he was hatching something in his dear old head. Something too crazy to bring to a council meeting, or even to
the king’s private ear. Guillem was fond of his brother, but he had no
faith at all in the old lore that was daily bread and wine for Dee. She sat
forward, reaching across the table in a conspiring way.
    “I will take particular care of it. Tell me about this
... elvren warrior.”
    “Well, his battle name, Haukka-Silma’a, meaning
Hawk-eye, or Hawkeneye, gives away the gist of it, doesn’t it? He was, and I do
use the past tense with some hesitation, a famous warrior of his clan, possibly
even a chieftain of sorts, and vastly celebrated for his proficiency in the use
of the long bow. It is said that he possessed a weapon of great antiquity and
uncommon power. Some say it was made of dragon horn, although dragons do not
carry horns to my knowledge, so that part might well be mere legen—”
    “All right, all right,” snapped Leal, waving her hands
dismissively. “Never mind the bow. What happened to him? What did you say about
the past tense? Is he alive? Where? How? You said this was ancient history!”
    Dee raised both his hands, palms out, defensively.
    “I did say not to get excited, didn’t I? According to
legend, and really, it may be all there is to it, Kjetil Alversen Hawkeneye
disappeared from the northern world over one hundred years ago.”
    Leal sat back in her chair with a sigh. “Oh, well, not
much help from that one, then.”
    Dee drummed his fingers on the table-top a few times,
looking thoughtful and keen.
    “Well, maybe not. And yet. Elvers are very long lived. Some say immortal, but that of course is so much
stuff. However, one hundred years do not mean as much to them as they would to
us. But what is more to the point, there appears to have been a rumor at the
time, a rumor consistent enough to be passed down in songs and eventually
recorded, that our good elver might have not quite disappeared, but ... Faded.”
    “Faded? Like an old stain?”
    “No. Faded. Like...” he
trailed off. He was obviously at a loss for a way to explain his meaning. “You
know how there is a notion that if you can find a fern seed on midsummer night it
will give you the power of invisibility?” he asked.
    Leal burst to laugh. “That is a nursery tale. Ferns
don’t even make seeds.”
    “Well, no, not the common ferns. And yet it is a very
well-known fact to the initiated that a particular rare fern called the
imperial fern, or by some, the dragon-fern, does indeed, around midsummer,
produce fruit and seed, and that this seed, taken fresh, with the due rituals,
will allow a human being of pure spirit to ascend to a higher state of
consciousness, or even, in fact, existence.”
    Leal laughed again. “I know of several very common
mushrooms that would do the same, and they are available year round, if you
have the good sense to dry them.”
    Dee gave her a deeply disapproving look. “I will
pretend not to have heard that, my princess. No, what I am talking about here
is not a brief culpable debauched self-indulgent exhilaration. This is High
Magic in one of its most ancient forms. The ritual for passing to the other
side is rooted in the oldest traditions of Men, Elves, and Elvers, and a dozen
other races. But only a few have preserved the