Read Online Curse of the Shadowmage by Anthony Mark - Free Book Online Page B

surprise—was that the woman was not standing on the ground. Rather, she drifted atop the mist as if she were no more solid than the vapor itself. Mari’s arms broke out in gooseflesh.
    This was no living person, but an apparition. Farenth pranced skittishly, and Mari tightened her grip on the reins.
    “Who are you?” she dared to ask in a quavering voice.
    The ghostly woman’s words floated eerily on the wind. “Do you not know me by this?” She lifted a hand to her breast. There Mari caught a glint of light and a silvery shape: a harp surrounded by a crescent moon. Mari’s breath caught in her throat. Finally she managed to whisper the word, her voice trembling with awe.
    “Kera?”
    The spectral woman smiled wistfully. “I was certain you would know me, Mari Al’maren. Though we have never met, it is as if we were sisters.”
    Mari shook her head, choking back a sob. Once, long before Mari had ever met Caledan, he and Kera had been lovers. They had worked together as Harpers and were betrothed. All their plans were shattered when Ravendas murdered Kera, an act made all the more loathsome by the fact that the two women were sisters. All these years, Mari had felt a sort of kinship with the Harper woman she had never known. Now she found herself face-to-face with her. It was wondrous, and bitterly sad as well.
    “Weep not, Mari,” the ghost intoned. “I have never begrudged you Caledan’s love. I am joyous he found one to make his heart whole once more. And do not be sad that you have parted ways, for you came to each other wounded, and now you each leave with those old wounds healed.”
    Mari bowed her head.
    “I have but one thing to ask of you, Mari.”
    She looked up, her cheeks damp with tears. “Anything,” Mari said fiercely, and meant it. “I will do anything you ask, Kera.”
    The ghostly woman smiled fondly. Then her smile vanished, and there was an urgency in her colorless eyes. “Though you have parted with Caledan, do not turn your back on him. He needs your help, Mari, now more than ever.”
    Mari shook her head in confusion. “I don’t understand. Is Caledan in some sort of danger?”
    “All of Toril is in danger.” The spirit was fading, her edges blurring with the mist. Her voice echoed faintly on the wind. “Beware the king, Mari. He must not ascend the throne …” The tendrils of fog swirled, the ghostly woman faded.
    “No, Kera, don’t go!” Mari reached out a hand. “What do you mean?”
    It was too late. An evening zephyr stirred the mist. When it cleared, the ghost of the beautiful Harper was gone. Mari gazed for a time into the gloaming, hardly able to believe what she had just witnessed. Finally she nudged Farenth’s flanks, and the big horse started into a trot, his hoofbeats muffled by the moist grass. Mari huddled inside her cloak, but all the rest of the way to Iriaebor she could not stop shivering.
    It was full dark when she reached the Sign of the Dreaming Dragon, where a missive from the Harpers was waiting for her.
    “It arrived earlier this evening,” Estah explained. “I told the messenger I wasn’t certain when you’d return.”
    Shaken by her encounter with the ghost of Kera, Mari was glad to have something mundane to concentrate on. She sat by the fire in the common room and let Estah bring her a cup of chamomile tea. She drank down the hot tea and finally managed to control her shivering.
    Breaking the wax seal on the scroll, she unrolled the parchment and began to read. In moments, it was clear that this was no routine directive. By the time she finished reading, her shivering had commenced anew.
    Estah returned and noticed Mari’s pallid face. “Dear
    one, you look as if you’d seen a ghost!”
    Mari smiled ironically. “I’m afraid that’s only half of it, Estah.”
    Estah drew up a chair and listened raptly as Mari spoke of her encounter with Kera’s shade. At some point, Mari looked up and noticed Kellen was there, sitting on the floor and