Read Online Echoes of the Fourth Magic by R. A. Salvatore - Free Book Online Page A

remark, and for the first time, Del seriously contemplated the possibilities. The devastation beyond the golden sheet had convinced him that there had been a holocaust, likely a nuclearwar, but occupied with other pressing issues, he hadn’t really considered that perhaps the devastation came fifty or even a hundred years after the
Unicorn
had sailed from Woods Hole. The prospect of a new world, of meeting a man from the future, now intrigued Del; a very large part of him hoped that Reinheiser’s theory would be proven right.
    “We’ll split up into three groups,” Mitchell said, looking at the three remaining rifles. He surveyed the landscape. North, faintly visible through the light fog, loomed the distant shapes of huge boulders, a rocky prelude to great dark mountains. South, the beach remained redundantly gray for as far as the eye could see. Due east, inland, was a marshy plain, flat and misty, misshapen black puddles of salty backwash blotting a gray-green background.
    “Pull the raft up above the tide line,” Mitchell told Del and Billy. “Then head north. Corbin, take Thompson and go south.”
    “Thanks a bunch,” Corbin mumbled.
    “The rest of us will head inland,” Mitchell continued. “And each group takes a rifle. We’ve got about four hours until sundown; and I want you all back here before then.”
    Del and Billy moved at a swift pace, excited and anxious to discover their whereabouts and, as Del put it, their “when-abouts.” Two hours and several miles later, they found themselves stomping along the only twisting trail they could follow through the great boulders and sheer rock faces. It rose and fell, more up than down as they steadily climbed higher and higher. Off a few hundred yards to the left and below them came the incessant pounding of the waves vainly bashing against the invincible cliffs.
    “There’s no end to these rocks,” Del muttered, his head down, watching his step; he had already stubbed his toes several times on the unyielding stone. The path was only a couple of feet wide at this point, barely a crack in a huge slab of solid stone, and inclined steeply. Finally approachingthe summit of the difficult rise, he looked up and beheld a magnificent sight.
    “A castle!” he gasped, and darted up the trail. Billy shrugged, about to ask what his friend might be talking about, but seeing Del so obviously intrigued, even consumed, he simply followed Del’s lead. Amoment later a gust of wind thinned the fog, and sure enough, Billy too saw the black walls and imposing towers of an immense fortress far in the distance, set upon a cliff face overlooking the sea.
    Del stood on the lip of a ledge, his hand shading his eyes as he tried to gain a better view of the castle through the alternately thick and thin patches of fog. He still hadn’t looked at the drop beneath him.
    Billy did when he got there.
    “Get down!” he whispered harshly. He grabbed Del by the shirt collar and pulled him back from the ledge and to the ground.
    “What are you—” Del began, but shut up when he saw Billy trembling and readying the M-16.
       Ray Corbin carried his rifle casually, barrel down over his right arm. Thompson had first grabbed the weapon back at the raft, but Corbin had witnessed too much to let the unsteady seaman anywhere near it. The two traveled slowly, for though Thompson was excited, Corbin insisted they take things easy.
    They moved inland just off the beach, traveling over a line of parched bluffs covered by scraggly brown grass. Corbin’s easy pace subdued Thompson a little, and both walked silently, deep in thought—Corbin worrying about the fate of his family in New England, and Thompson, who had already convinced himself that he had saved the
Unicorn
single-handedly, fantasizing about the presentation of his medal.
    As they approached a high bluff, the sound of voices abruptly ended their daydreams. The two looked at eachother, and Thompson was about to blurt something out