Read Online Mind of the Magic (Arhel Book 3) by Holly Lisle - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Holly Lisle
Tags: Fantasy, Magic, High-Fantasy, trilogy, jungle, archeology, Holly Lisle, Arhel, First Folk, Delmuirie Barrier
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still ahead of her before he raced out of her line of sight again.
She passed one exit—she assumed it led into another layer of connecting chambers, but had no time to peek out of the tunnel to see. Witte and the faeriefires raced downward.
Finally, the tunnel leveled out into a sand-floored chamber. The rooms and tunnels there did not curve in the winding stone web of the upper layers. Instead, corridors ran off in four directions, perfectly straight, with the dark arches of carved doorways lining the corridors at regular intervals that ran on to the vanishing point.
Faia no longer needed her faeriefire light. The corridor that led straight in front of her and the one that ran off to her left both gleamed with the same warm golden light she had seen from the promontory.
The cluster of faeriefires hung in the air at the periphery of this golden wall, swarming and flickering. Those individual fires that at any instant were closest to the barrier darted into it and back out again; it was obvious to Faia that the faeriefire swarm was waiting for Witte and her to move forward. Faia looked around for Witte; she found him sitting against the arching far wall, wearing an expression of intense concentration on his face. His breathing was steady, though Faia gasped for air after her run. She considered that fact for an instant and found she didn’t care for it. Witte had returned to remarkably good shape for someone who had been begging passage to Father Dark’s domain only weeks before.
The little man twisted absently at the tip of his braid. “We have a problem,” he said. “We can’t get through here. Our way out is blocked.”
“I noticed that, actually.” She couldn’t keep the edge from her voice. She tried to figure out why her spell had failed—and wondered why the faeriefires could go in and out of the barrier of light that she dared not touch. Even standing near Delmuirie’s light, Faia found the energy of the magic wall almost unbearable. It thrummed through her bones from her head to the soles of her feet, and pulsed in time with her blood. Her skin prickled and her breath came fast. She felt as if she were going to explode.
She slipped Kirtha off her back and crouched on the sand floor beside her. “Sit right here and don’t move. Mama has to find a way through this.”
Kirtha nodded solemnly, eyes round and lips pursed.
Faia formed the image of Medwind Song in her mind. The young, sharp-featured face, skin sun-darkened, hair white as light itself from a Timeride of heroic distance; eyes pale and cold as ice—warrior eyes. Faia held that image and recalled the feel of Medwind’s magic. While she struggled to clarify the image and the feel, the faeriefires flashed in front of her, dancing in and out of Delmuirie’s wall of magic and trying to lead her forward when she didn’t follow, they came back for her like well-trained sheepdogs trying to lead a recalcitrant shepherd to a missing lamb. She ignored them and focused, until her picture of Medwind Song was as clear as she could make it. Then she focused outward, using her magic to locate a match for her memories inside of Delmuirie’s wall.
She failed. That endlessly surging current swallowed every tendril of magic she sent forward until she started to feel feedback as the barrier magic followed her magical paths back to her, hungry for a new source of food. Faia broke off contact and stood, shivering and gasping, wondering what she could do next.
Witte said, “What’s wrong?”
“I can’t find Medwind in that mess, and I’m afraid to try again. The magic of that barrier acts like a living thing—and a hungry one. It tried to absorb me just now. I broke off contact before it could, but I don’t dare touch it again, or it will swallow me.” She wrapped her arms tightly around herself; tears welled in her eyes, and she swallowed hard, fighting the lump in her throat “My friends are in there, and I don’t know how I can get them
She passed one exit—she assumed it led into another layer of connecting chambers, but had no time to peek out of the tunnel to see. Witte and the faeriefires raced downward.
Finally, the tunnel leveled out into a sand-floored chamber. The rooms and tunnels there did not curve in the winding stone web of the upper layers. Instead, corridors ran off in four directions, perfectly straight, with the dark arches of carved doorways lining the corridors at regular intervals that ran on to the vanishing point.
Faia no longer needed her faeriefire light. The corridor that led straight in front of her and the one that ran off to her left both gleamed with the same warm golden light she had seen from the promontory.
The cluster of faeriefires hung in the air at the periphery of this golden wall, swarming and flickering. Those individual fires that at any instant were closest to the barrier darted into it and back out again; it was obvious to Faia that the faeriefire swarm was waiting for Witte and her to move forward. Faia looked around for Witte; she found him sitting against the arching far wall, wearing an expression of intense concentration on his face. His breathing was steady, though Faia gasped for air after her run. She considered that fact for an instant and found she didn’t care for it. Witte had returned to remarkably good shape for someone who had been begging passage to Father Dark’s domain only weeks before.
The little man twisted absently at the tip of his braid. “We have a problem,” he said. “We can’t get through here. Our way out is blocked.”
“I noticed that, actually.” She couldn’t keep the edge from her voice. She tried to figure out why her spell had failed—and wondered why the faeriefires could go in and out of the barrier of light that she dared not touch. Even standing near Delmuirie’s light, Faia found the energy of the magic wall almost unbearable. It thrummed through her bones from her head to the soles of her feet, and pulsed in time with her blood. Her skin prickled and her breath came fast. She felt as if she were going to explode.
She slipped Kirtha off her back and crouched on the sand floor beside her. “Sit right here and don’t move. Mama has to find a way through this.”
Kirtha nodded solemnly, eyes round and lips pursed.
Faia formed the image of Medwind Song in her mind. The young, sharp-featured face, skin sun-darkened, hair white as light itself from a Timeride of heroic distance; eyes pale and cold as ice—warrior eyes. Faia held that image and recalled the feel of Medwind’s magic. While she struggled to clarify the image and the feel, the faeriefires flashed in front of her, dancing in and out of Delmuirie’s wall of magic and trying to lead her forward when she didn’t follow, they came back for her like well-trained sheepdogs trying to lead a recalcitrant shepherd to a missing lamb. She ignored them and focused, until her picture of Medwind Song was as clear as she could make it. Then she focused outward, using her magic to locate a match for her memories inside of Delmuirie’s wall.
She failed. That endlessly surging current swallowed every tendril of magic she sent forward until she started to feel feedback as the barrier magic followed her magical paths back to her, hungry for a new source of food. Faia broke off contact and stood, shivering and gasping, wondering what she could do next.
Witte said, “What’s wrong?”
“I can’t find Medwind in that mess, and I’m afraid to try again. The magic of that barrier acts like a living thing—and a hungry one. It tried to absorb me just now. I broke off contact before it could, but I don’t dare touch it again, or it will swallow me.” She wrapped her arms tightly around herself; tears welled in her eyes, and she swallowed hard, fighting the lump in her throat “My friends are in there, and I don’t know how I can get them
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