flashed up out of the gloom. 'Not wrong.' Frustrated with word symbol images, the Llondel stamped a clawed foot on the stairway, bitterly offended.
"I'm sorry." The Earl was desperate to know the cause of Jaric's distress. He pushed open the door at the head of the landing and held the carved panel wide. "Humans have difficulty believing what they cannot see. Will you show us?"
Light flooded from the chamber beyond, illuminating a gray-brown alien face. The creature hesitated. Crescent nostrils quivered, and its bone-slim fingers tightened on the blanket-wrapped boy.
"We need your help," the Earl coaxed softly.
The Llondel returned a sour chirp. It moved forward, but not, the Earl understood, for the sake of Morbrith. As the demon crossed the threshold, he again received the impression of a sorcerer endangered; but this time he held his opinion. He closed and barred the door, and a voice called querulously from the shadows.
"You took eternity to get here."
"I know." The Earl bent and stuffed a length of felt into the crack beneath the door. "I had to wait for the guardsmen. Would you want to cross the summerfair with a litter?"
A grunt answered him. The Earl straightened and regarded the wizened countenance of Morbrith's Master Seer by the light of the cresset which blazed in an iron bracket closeby.
The old man glared back, chin jutted outward from a nest of untrimmed hair. His mouth pursed deeply with displeasure. "Better that than the saddle at my age. You'd never, were you seventy. My bones ache."
But spry movements belied his complaint as he rose and shuttered the chamber's single window. The Llondel seated itself in the center of the floor with Jaric cradled in its lap. Then it fixed its sultry gaze upon the Earl and pointed to the cresset.
'End the light,' it sent.
The Lord of Morbrith lifted the torch and plunged it into a water bucket beneath. The chamber went dark with a crackling hiss of steam. The man settled himself beside the seer, and waited as the last airborn spark flurried and died, leaving blackness punctured by two burning red-gold lamps which were the Llondel's eyes.
Suddenly uneasy, the Earl clamped damp palms on his sleeves. "You will reveal to us the sender of this boy's affliction," he said to the Llondel. "No harm will come to any human here."
The eyes vanished, eclipsed by the cloak hood as the Llondel bowed its head. No image arose in reply, and no sound intruded but faintly labored wheezes from the seer. But as the Earl strained to see form in the darkness, a spark of yellow appeared suspended in the air. It flared brighter, acquiring the flowing edges of live flame, then widened into a ghostly wheel of fire which shed no light on any of the surrounding objects. The apparition sent a thrill of fe ar down the Earl's spine. The Ll ondel and the boy appeared to have vanished.
Through a gut-deep hollow of dread, the man understood that he gazed directly upon Jaric's nightmare, and he longed suddenly to be outdoors, surrounded by summer's chorus of crickets. But door and window were barred, and every chink battened with felt. The Llondel's empathic imaging smothered the Earl's wish, pitched his awareness through the spinning heart of the flame, into the boy's mind....
* * *
... Fog, wind, and the icy sting of spray. Surf hammered into rocks scant yards below the ledge where Jaric huddled, arms clasped tightly around his knees. The elements battered his unprotected body with cruel force. Though soaked and chilled, he did not care. His face remained hidden behind hands rigid as carved ivory, even when he sensed he was no longer alone. The sorcerer from his earlier vision stepped out of the mist and paused on the ledge before him. But Jaric did not look up.
"I call you, Firelord's Son." The sorcerer gazed down at the boy. The wind tossed his silver hair, his staff glowed with a brilliant aura of power, and the air tingled with the resonance of terrible forces held in check.
Yet Jaric made
"I'm sorry." The Earl was desperate to know the cause of Jaric's distress. He pushed open the door at the head of the landing and held the carved panel wide. "Humans have difficulty believing what they cannot see. Will you show us?"
Light flooded from the chamber beyond, illuminating a gray-brown alien face. The creature hesitated. Crescent nostrils quivered, and its bone-slim fingers tightened on the blanket-wrapped boy.
"We need your help," the Earl coaxed softly.
The Llondel returned a sour chirp. It moved forward, but not, the Earl understood, for the sake of Morbrith. As the demon crossed the threshold, he again received the impression of a sorcerer endangered; but this time he held his opinion. He closed and barred the door, and a voice called querulously from the shadows.
"You took eternity to get here."
"I know." The Earl bent and stuffed a length of felt into the crack beneath the door. "I had to wait for the guardsmen. Would you want to cross the summerfair with a litter?"
A grunt answered him. The Earl straightened and regarded the wizened countenance of Morbrith's Master Seer by the light of the cresset which blazed in an iron bracket closeby.
The old man glared back, chin jutted outward from a nest of untrimmed hair. His mouth pursed deeply with displeasure. "Better that than the saddle at my age. You'd never, were you seventy. My bones ache."
But spry movements belied his complaint as he rose and shuttered the chamber's single window. The Llondel seated itself in the center of the floor with Jaric cradled in its lap. Then it fixed its sultry gaze upon the Earl and pointed to the cresset.
'End the light,' it sent.
The Lord of Morbrith lifted the torch and plunged it into a water bucket beneath. The chamber went dark with a crackling hiss of steam. The man settled himself beside the seer, and waited as the last airborn spark flurried and died, leaving blackness punctured by two burning red-gold lamps which were the Llondel's eyes.
Suddenly uneasy, the Earl clamped damp palms on his sleeves. "You will reveal to us the sender of this boy's affliction," he said to the Llondel. "No harm will come to any human here."
The eyes vanished, eclipsed by the cloak hood as the Llondel bowed its head. No image arose in reply, and no sound intruded but faintly labored wheezes from the seer. But as the Earl strained to see form in the darkness, a spark of yellow appeared suspended in the air. It flared brighter, acquiring the flowing edges of live flame, then widened into a ghostly wheel of fire which shed no light on any of the surrounding objects. The apparition sent a thrill of fe ar down the Earl's spine. The Ll ondel and the boy appeared to have vanished.
Through a gut-deep hollow of dread, the man understood that he gazed directly upon Jaric's nightmare, and he longed suddenly to be outdoors, surrounded by summer's chorus of crickets. But door and window were barred, and every chink battened with felt. The Llondel's empathic imaging smothered the Earl's wish, pitched his awareness through the spinning heart of the flame, into the boy's mind....
* * *
... Fog, wind, and the icy sting of spray. Surf hammered into rocks scant yards below the ledge where Jaric huddled, arms clasped tightly around his knees. The elements battered his unprotected body with cruel force. Though soaked and chilled, he did not care. His face remained hidden behind hands rigid as carved ivory, even when he sensed he was no longer alone. The sorcerer from his earlier vision stepped out of the mist and paused on the ledge before him. But Jaric did not look up.
"I call you, Firelord's Son." The sorcerer gazed down at the boy. The wind tossed his silver hair, his staff glowed with a brilliant aura of power, and the air tingled with the resonance of terrible forces held in check.
Yet Jaric made
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