The Black Queen (Book 6) Read Free Page A

looked down, he would see more veins of red below. But he continued to stare over the mountains.
    He hadn’t been this high before. The rugged peaks were white or gray, and then tapered into a lush greenness provided by a crop of sturdy mountain pines. The valleys down below were lost in morning mist. It was as if he were floating above the clouds.
    He could feel Madot’s gaze. When he turned, he expected to see her usual indulgent smile. Instead, he saw a deep and unusual sadness on her face.
    A small shiver ran through him.
    “Let’s go,” she said, and stood. This time she did not take his arm. She walked ahead of him on the stairs, establishing a pace that was more strenuous than the one before.
    He was able to keep up easily, however. The lightness in his legs he had felt earlier was still there. The only difference now was that the stairs were steeper, and he had no chance to observe the sights around him. He had to concentrate on keeping up with Madot.
    He had never seen her move so fast. It was almost as if revealing her sadness had embarrassed her.
    Or perhaps she had revealed too much.
    They reached a second, smaller plateau, and from there he could feel it, the power of the cave ahead. It drew him like a woman’s touch. He was familiar with this feeling. It was how he had discovered the Place of Power on Blue Isle. He also had to live with a muted version of it in Protectors Village. Live with it, and deny it at the same time.
    Here there was no denial. He allowed the feeling to guide him. He gazed up, and saw the entrance glowing silver. His heart leapt. That sense of homecoming had returned.
    Madot was watching him again. “The feeling is strong in you,” she said, and the words were a statement, not a question. It almost sounded as if she were disappointed by what she saw.
    “Shouldn’t it be?” he asked, unable to take his gaze off that entrance.
    She didn’t answer him. Instead, she led him up the last flight of stairs. These were so steep they were almost a ladder. He had no trouble negotiating them, but he wondered if others did, if the design was purposeful, to prevent unwanteds from coming to this Place of Power.
    The stairs ended in another ledge, this one carved flat and maintained to a polished perfection. Pelô, one of the Shaman Protectors, stood at the top of the stairs.
    He was skinny and tall, his white hair as chaotic as Madot’s. He wore a dark Shaman’s robe to blend in with the mountain. He carried no weapon, only a large staff carved from esada wood. He stepped back as Gift climbed onto the ledge. His dark eyes held disapproval, and something else, something even more unsettling.
    “One shouldn’t test a Warning,” Pelô said to Madot.
    The look she gave him was dismissive. She didn’t bother to reply.
    “He has friends at the other Place of Power,” Pelô said. “You know we cannot let him inside.”
    “There are no Shaman currently on Blue Isle,” Madot said.
    “But there are powerful Visionaries.”
    Gift stood perfectly still during the exchange. The wind was stronger here, and colder. It buffeted him and he had to constantly shift his weight to keep his balance.
    “I am doing what my Vision told me to do five years ago,” Madot said.
    “Why did you not do it then?” Pelô asked.
    “Because there was no need.”
    “I do not believe there is a need now.”
    “The Powers issued a Warning.”
    “Did they?” Pelô asked. “There was no Vision attached.”
    Gift shifted. Had Madot acted on her own? He didn’t like that. “I have never wanted special treatment,” he said. “I want to be an apprentice like the others. Bring me up here when the time is right, for them and for me. Please. If this is wrong—”
    “No one has said it’s wrong,” Madot snapped.
    Pelô raised a single eyebrow. The effect made him look like a quizzical dog. “I haven’t said it, but I should have. It is wrong. The boy does not belong here. He belongs with his