Read Online Haven 3 Shadow Magic (Haven Series 3) by B. V. Larson - Free Book Online

Had the axe changed him in some way, so as to make the beacon shine more clearly to him? Had he become a creature of the twilight? He was only a river-boy of the Haven, yet lately he had walked and dealt with the greatest of the Faerie. Could a man do such a thing without permanently changing his spirit?
    As he walked onward over the dark landscape, thinking such weighty thoughts, he absently put the axe back into his knapsack.
    It went without complaint. He stared down at the ice-white blades. His hand was free of it, without a struggle. It was as Oberon had said: he truly was its master.

    * * *

     “Brand!” cried Corbin. “Brand has returned!”
    Brand made no response, but instead trudged up to the gatehouse’s entrance with his head hung low.
    “You’ve been gone for days, man!” said Corbin. “We worried you would never return!”  He scrambled down from his watchman’s post on the walls and strained at a lever. The grille shifted just enough to allow Brand to enter the gatehouse.
    “Days?” asked Brand vaguely. “I recall only one night.”
    “Often,” said Myrrdin, “people who walk with the Faerie find that time moves at a different pace with them.”
    Corbin came close to him now, and Brand heard him suck in his breath. “Are you hurt, cousin?” asked Corbin in concern. He took Brand’s arm. “You’re wet and sticky—” Corbin drew in his breath sharply. “Is that blood? Are you wounded?”
    Brand shook his head. “It’s not my blood,” he said in a hollow voice.
    Brand felt the other’s hands lessen their grip then, as if they wanted to pull away from him. He felt a pang at this. He was a murderer, and none would want to stain themselves with the blood of his victims. He thought of Oberon’s daughter and her silver locks. He recalled her name, Llewella , and felt a wave of sickness come over him. Would all others revile him from this day forward?
    Corbin helped him to the fire, then drew away and tried to inconspicuously cleanse his hands. Brand felt tainted. He thought of the redcap, who also wore garments soaked in the blood of its victims. He crouched before the fire and stared into the dancing yellow tongues, oblivious to those around him.
    Myrrdin approached him. He sighed as he seated himself on a fallen log they had pulled near the firepit to serve as a bench.
    “A new dawn is only hours off and Herla has yet to break through the charm that protects this place,” said Myrrdin. “Even the dark bard has given over his endless music as futile. It appears that we will pass another night safely.”
    Brand stuck out his hands to warm them. Then he saw they were stained and splotched with blood and drew them back into his cloak. In his pockets his hand felt the feathery touch of the elfkin-maiden’s silvery hair. He rubbed it briefly between his bloodstained fingers. His eyes stung and he blinked back tears.
    “I’ve looked often to the Faerie mound where I sent you,” said Myrrdin gently. “Each night there have been dancing colored lights and signs of great activity. What has occurred, Brand?”
    “I’ve slain innocence and evil both,” said Brand. He stuck out his hands again and looked at them. He wondered at the price upon his soul that mastering the axe had taken. “I’ve slain them in the world and in myself, both together.”
    Myrrdin looked troubled, but he nodded. “Was there a wager to be reckoned?”
    “Yes,” said Brand.
    “Have we lost—anything?”
    “Oberon wanted Lavatis, but I wagered my head instead,” said Brand in a dead voice.
    Telyn sucked in her breath sharply in alarm. Modi gave a heavy grunt of approval. Brand realized for the first time the others were all listening intently.
    “It seems to me that you must have won the wager, given the stakes,” said Myrrdin.
    Brand nodded.
    “Who then was slain?” Myrrdin asked.
    Brand eyed the blood on his hands and flexed them experimentally. For the first time, he considered washing them, but