Read Online Sun Cross 1 - The Rainbow Abyss by Barbara Hambly - Free Book Online

tucked up from work and her muddy boots showing beneath it, her hands shoved for warmth into her sleeves.
    The male wizard inclined his head. “Are you Jaldis the Blind and his pupil Rhion?”
    “I’m Rhion, yes. Come in.” He stepped back from the door, but neither of the two visitors made any move to follow him inside. A moment later he heard the scrape of Jaldis’ chair legs on the stone, and then the almost soundless tap of crutches and rustle of robes.
    “I am Chelfrednig of Imber, and this in Niane. We understand that you have come to stay in Imber.”
    “For a time,” Rhion said, hiking his cloak a little higher over his shoulder. He mistrusted the man’s tone, the cool distance of his manner. It was something he recognized, the attitude that said,
    
    
     Don’t blame ME for what’s going to happen. It’s nothing personal
    
     …
    “It’s nothing personal…”
    “Fine.”
    
     Rhion lifted a hand amicably. “At this short an acquaintance I have nothing personal against you, either. Now that we’ve established that…”
    “We understand that yesterday you sold a good-luck charm to a slave named Benno, who works at the shrine of Mhorvianne.”
    “He didn’t tell me his name,” he said, more cautious still, “but yes, I did make a talisman of good fortune for a man who came here, and by the way he dressed I figured him for a lower servant or a slave.”
    With a quickness that reminded Rhion irresistibly of carnival-show sleight of hand, Chelfrednig produced a round billet of elderwood, roughly the size of a double-weight copper penny, from his sleeve and held it out. Rhion did not touch it. Upon it he recognized his own elaborately interwoven seals, spelled to attract circumstances of pleasantness and peace, of good feeling and fortunate coincidence. As be had explained to the man who had come to them yesterday, no magic could turn aside true misfortune, just as no magic could bring the thundering strokes of great luck that change a person’s life—and he didn’t think his first client in Imber had wanted to believe him. But as far as it went, the little emblem was good for a few extra rolls of dice, for a capricious master’s change of mood when a slave had broken a dish, or for an extra jog at the memory about a pot left on the stove. And what more, Rhion thought, could you do for a slave?
    With his forefinger he pushed his spectacles a little more firmly up onto the bridge of his nose, and waited.
    “We of our House, ” Chelfrednig said sententiously, “have striven over the years to achieve a harmony with the authorities of this town, the priests of Ptorag, the local magistrates, and the Earl of Way’s governor. We believe we have convinced them that those born with the powers of wizardry, if properly instructed and disciplined, are not monsters, nor are they traitors to the gods and to humankind; that we do not hold orgies at the turning points of the universe and do not slit children’s throats to make magic with their blood. And we have done this by keeping ourselves to ourselves, and by refraining from meddling with the lives of anyone in this town.”
    “That’s very nice,” said Rhion grimly. “Who pays your rent?”
    “Investments,” the White Mage replied, with a dismissive gesture of one gloved hand. “But the fact remains that our living depends upon the sufferance of the local authorities. And this… ” He took Rhion’s hand in his, and placed the talisman in the plump palm. “…we cannot have.”
    Rhion heard Jaldis come up behind him; a swift glance back showed him the cold flash of daylight on the opal-and-crystal spectacles that the old man had donned.
    “You cannot deny us our right,” the old man said, “to make a living.”
    “Ah.” Under a long flow of herb-scented beard, Chelfrednig’s mouth flexed in a small, tolerant smile. “I had forgotten that when the Morkensiks split off from the Selarnist Order they conveniently dropped the portion of