Winds of Fury Read Free Page B

for so long before trying anything contained in it. The real purpose of this spell was in the pages that were missing, and the pages he possessed were riddled by insects and blurred by time. Still, this was the closest he had come in all the months of searching, and for the past week or so, he had felt ready to attempt this “spell of seeking.” For some reason, today felt right to try it.
    He had managed a week ago to restore some of the manuscript at least; a clear description of the level of Adept that could tap into the “nodes,” though not the safeguards that would make such tapping less hazardous. This was the first time he had seen such descriptions, or the directions on how to use the node-power once he obtained it.
    Hopefully, if he were strong enough, the safeguards would not be necessary. He had never once seen Hulda using any such safeguards when she accessed the power of “nodes.”
    Then again, his more cautious side chided, she could have established those protections before you were in a position to watch her. She could have been hiding them from you.
    The spell described was not the same one that Hulda used, of that much he was certain. This spell required the construction of some kind of “portal”; he could only assume that it was a portal to the node-power. That made sense; he already knew that he, at least, could not touch these things directly.
    He settled into a chair he often used for his meditations and suppressed a shiver. He recalled only too well the first and last time he had attempted to touch the nodes directly.
    He had been able to see these power nexus-points, as well as the lines leading to them, from the time he reached the level of Journeyman. From the time he was first initiated by Hulda into the world of magic, he had been able to see the power that all things created, all the colors and intensities of it. But until Hulda drew power from those points during an attempt to pierce the sky above one of the Valdemar border towns with magic and let loose a plague of poisonous “insects” there, he had not known they were useful for anything. That was when she had told him—a little too proudly, he thought—that he would not be able to copy her example until he was an Adept.
    He had tested that himself, when he realized that she was never going to assist him to achieve that status.
    The power had been wild and startling; he had known immediately that he did not have the ability to control it at all, much less do so safely. It had felt as if he were suddenly juggling red-hot stones, and he had quickly released his tenuous contact, suddenly grateful that it was so tenuous. He had felt “scorched” for days afterward, and he had never again made the attempt.
    But this time—perhaps through this “portal”—
    The manuscript had been very clear no one point; that the only energy he would be able to use to form this portal was the energy he contained within himself. A pity, but he saw no reason to doubt it; hence the conscientious effort to fully charge himself, as if for a battle. Now he was as ready as he would ever be.
    This room was perfect for use as a mage’s private workroom; the wooden floor could be inscribed with chalk for diagrams, the peaked roof allowed a great deal of clearance in the center, and the only furniture was the bookcases, two chairs, and one table. There were no windows that needed to be shut or barred, and the stone walls were thick enough that very little sound penetrated. The old tower had been relegated to storage until he took it over, and most of the servants were unaware it was being used for anything else.
    The portal required a physical foundation; he used the frame of one of the bookcases, an empty one, since he did not know what would happen to the contents once the portal was complete.
    He sat bolt upright in a chair, took a deep, settling breath, and began.
    He raised his hands and closed