.
Allowing the cloak to fall away, he stared at the hand he had hidden from D’Marr.
Visibly, there was no sign of a wound, not even the smallest mark. Yet the pain still coursed through him as if someone had thrust a knife into his palm. The hand was twisted into a shape more the parody of a bird’s claw than a human extremity. Even the slightest movement caused the pain to increase a hundredfold, but he could wait no longer. He had to straighten it now.
Gritting his teeth, the blue man strained to bend his fingers back. Sweat poured down his forehead as he fought the pain. Slowly, the hand resumed a somewhat more normal appearance, although even achieving that resulted in yet more excruciating torture. In the end, D’Rance could not help moan under his breath. He would somehow find the one who had done this and make him regret it all.
It had been foolish, he knew, to test himself so soon, but the opportunity had presented itself like a gift and the blue man, unable to resist, had leapt in. His reward had been the agony.
But it goes better, he consoled himself. I grow more skilled, yes . . .
Forcing himself to use his injured hand, the better to begin living with the pain, D’Rance removed his hood. He began to pick up the helm, then thought better of it. Glancing around to make certain that he would not be interrupted, he pulled from one of the pouches on his belt a small looking glass. Raising it to eye level, the northerner held it so that he could see the left side of his head.
A tiny streak of silver in his hair, a streak that had only weeks ago not existed at all, greeted his gaze.
The blue man smiled. He was making definite progress, yes.
V
“IF YOU THINK that I’ll let you make this journey alone, Cabe, then you’ve not known the true me even after all these years!”
Had he been anyone else, the warlock would have been more than a little fearful at the sight his wife now presented. She was, for the moment, the woodland goddess, the Lady of the Amber, that many still thought her. Power radiated from her. Her brilliant scarlet tresses fluttered with a life of their own and she seemed to stand almost twice as tall as Cabe. Her emerald eyes sparkled bright, twin green flames that, at other times, had driven him to pleasant distraction. The expression on her face he had only seen once or twice in the past and both those times had been when her children had been threatened.
It hurt him to see her like this, for he knew that it was only her love and fear for him that had raised such a fury.
“You know what we agreed, Gwen. It’s not for us; it’s for the children. It isn’t fair to risk both of us. Someone has to be there for them . . . just in case. You were the one who originally thought that up, remember.”
“I know.” She looked bitter. “But it would be easier if it was me who had to take the risk. Then I’d know that you were safe and watching the children. Whatever I faced, I would be able to face it better knowing that.”
“And I wouldn’t? Gwen, you know that you’re my partner as well as my mate, but this time it has to be me and me alone. The visions came to me—”
“And Aurim.”
He conceded her point. “But I think it might be because he and I are so much alike in many ways. The second time, only I saw the images. Besides, I can’t take him with me. He’s not ready . . . unless his control has greatly benefited from the other day.”
Gwen managed a smile. “This morning I found one of the stick men wandering through the garden. Apparently, when Aurim tried to reverse his spell, he couldn’t keep track of them all and this one escaped. No, even if I was willing to risk our son—which I am not —I agree that he is not ready.”
“Good.”
“But I will not let you go alone, either. At least wait for the Green Dragon to recover.”
“It’ll be too late. Physically, the attack did little, but magically, it’s drained him. He’ll be too weak for some time.”
Allowing the cloak to fall away, he stared at the hand he had hidden from D’Marr.
Visibly, there was no sign of a wound, not even the smallest mark. Yet the pain still coursed through him as if someone had thrust a knife into his palm. The hand was twisted into a shape more the parody of a bird’s claw than a human extremity. Even the slightest movement caused the pain to increase a hundredfold, but he could wait no longer. He had to straighten it now.
Gritting his teeth, the blue man strained to bend his fingers back. Sweat poured down his forehead as he fought the pain. Slowly, the hand resumed a somewhat more normal appearance, although even achieving that resulted in yet more excruciating torture. In the end, D’Rance could not help moan under his breath. He would somehow find the one who had done this and make him regret it all.
It had been foolish, he knew, to test himself so soon, but the opportunity had presented itself like a gift and the blue man, unable to resist, had leapt in. His reward had been the agony.
But it goes better, he consoled himself. I grow more skilled, yes . . .
Forcing himself to use his injured hand, the better to begin living with the pain, D’Rance removed his hood. He began to pick up the helm, then thought better of it. Glancing around to make certain that he would not be interrupted, he pulled from one of the pouches on his belt a small looking glass. Raising it to eye level, the northerner held it so that he could see the left side of his head.
A tiny streak of silver in his hair, a streak that had only weeks ago not existed at all, greeted his gaze.
The blue man smiled. He was making definite progress, yes.
V
“IF YOU THINK that I’ll let you make this journey alone, Cabe, then you’ve not known the true me even after all these years!”
Had he been anyone else, the warlock would have been more than a little fearful at the sight his wife now presented. She was, for the moment, the woodland goddess, the Lady of the Amber, that many still thought her. Power radiated from her. Her brilliant scarlet tresses fluttered with a life of their own and she seemed to stand almost twice as tall as Cabe. Her emerald eyes sparkled bright, twin green flames that, at other times, had driven him to pleasant distraction. The expression on her face he had only seen once or twice in the past and both those times had been when her children had been threatened.
It hurt him to see her like this, for he knew that it was only her love and fear for him that had raised such a fury.
“You know what we agreed, Gwen. It’s not for us; it’s for the children. It isn’t fair to risk both of us. Someone has to be there for them . . . just in case. You were the one who originally thought that up, remember.”
“I know.” She looked bitter. “But it would be easier if it was me who had to take the risk. Then I’d know that you were safe and watching the children. Whatever I faced, I would be able to face it better knowing that.”
“And I wouldn’t? Gwen, you know that you’re my partner as well as my mate, but this time it has to be me and me alone. The visions came to me—”
“And Aurim.”
He conceded her point. “But I think it might be because he and I are so much alike in many ways. The second time, only I saw the images. Besides, I can’t take him with me. He’s not ready . . . unless his control has greatly benefited from the other day.”
Gwen managed a smile. “This morning I found one of the stick men wandering through the garden. Apparently, when Aurim tried to reverse his spell, he couldn’t keep track of them all and this one escaped. No, even if I was willing to risk our son—which I am not —I agree that he is not ready.”
“Good.”
“But I will not let you go alone, either. At least wait for the Green Dragon to recover.”
“It’ll be too late. Physically, the attack did little, but magically, it’s drained him. He’ll be too weak for some time.”
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