The Warrior Returns - Anteros 04 Read Free Page A

ghostly nerves ached to have her back.
    I practiced until the misses were minimal. It took getting used to, because with only one eye it's sometimes difficult to judge distance accurately. This infirmity is lessened because the golden eyepatch I wear is made of the same material as my hand. With it I can see into the Otherworlds at will and with no spell-casting. I call it my ethereye.
    Next came sword practice.
    With my strength growing daily, I had to concentrate on being nimble. The sword has always been my favorite, and I do not boast when I say I've never met a man or woman who could best me with the blade. Naturally, such a person does exist somewhere. That is the nature of all human abilities. No matter how good you are, there's always someone who is your equal, or better. In my tavern-brawling youth I used to dream of meeting that person so I could really test my talent. Which only goes to prove that you don't have to be a man whose bravado is commanded by his balls to consider such folly.
    While I continued to grunt and strain with the physical, it was most important that I didn't forget my Otherworldly self. So I got out my wizard's chest and unpacked the scrolls and unguents and powders and other Evocator's devices.
    I conjured up small things first—a glass bead, a fiery scrap of parchment, a drop of perfume so powerful it filled the cabin with its odor, a large beetle with wings of green and black who made a song as sweet as a bird's as it flew around looking for a way out. Then I turned the beetle into a glittering-jeweled scarab necklace for Salimar that would make music and scent
    I came to the Evocator's craft late in my life and with much reluctance. Dire circumstances and a blind master wizard forced me to overcome that reluctance. I eventually realized my abilities were a gift from my mother. And that it is from her side of the family that some Anteros inherited the talent for sorcery. I'd used it to destroy the Archons of Lycanth and end that ancient threat to Orissa.
    Amalric was not magically blessed—or cursed, depending how you looked at it—but his presence seemed to act as a magnifier when he was in the company of the two Greycloaks, first Janos and then Janela. With Janos he found the Far Kingdoms, at that time the greatest feat in our people's history. With Janela he'd topped even that accomplishment by traveling to the Kingdoms of the Night and joining with the Old Ones to defeat the demon king, Ba'land, who'd plunged humankind into a thousand years of darkness and ignorance. As a parting gift to all, he helped Janela Greycloak discover the principle that unifies all physical forces with the magical.
    He'd made his final, most difficult expedition as an old man. The dangers he'd faced awakened me enough to see his troubles in a vision. It was the only time in my fifty years of blissful sleep that I'd been so disturbed. At first I'd seen no means to help him. Then I'd cast a spell that made Amalric grow younger as he traveled until he had the strength and stamina of a man in his prime. My brother never realized I was the cause of this, but he questioned the effect so little that I sometimes wonder if deep inside he knew.
    I'd thought when he'd found his peace and I had returned to mine that all would be the best it could be in the world we'd both abandoned. What should have commenced was an age of great challenge and enlightenment
    As I trained myself to face whatever task lay ahead, I hammered my skull for some hint of what could have gone wrong.
    Then I remembered Amalric's parting words. As he'd written them in his journal, his thoughts had been so powerful that they'd echoed across the vast distances separating us. I'd heard them in my ice chamber as clear as if he'd been sitting next to me speaking aloud:
    "... I have made a pact with King Solaris. All the knowledge Janela gained will be shared with Orissa. A company of wizards will depart soon and I beg you to make them welcome in Orissa.