Five Senses Box Set
Page 95
The mages in the Place of Learning had assembled before the seeing panel.
“They are more than we thought.” Gifford broke the silence first.
“They are the roots from which new growth will rise,” said one of the women.
“The honors of battle are theirs,” commented Fanquer, with the envy of an old soldier for a rousing conflict missed. “We did little enough.”
“In the sense of giving aid, perhaps not.” Yost sounded soul weary, as if wrung dry of all energy. “But it was we who loosed the Shadow. So, brothers and sisters, look well into your hearts, for we, too, must guard against complacency and overmuch trust. There will be a new Covenant—”
Then the archmage’s speech was drowned out by another Voice, raised in a song at once otherworldly and thoroughly earthly. Those assembled felt the Wind enter into the age-old hall, touching the hangings and setting each a-quiver as it passed. Once more the scholars listened to the near-forgotten voices of life, hailing the return of the Light and the hearing that bound all things together.
Yost raised his hand as if in salute. “So be it,” hesaid, and his tone now held peace, “so be it. We, too, have slept—but at last we wake.”
In Styrmir, the moonlight continued, bright almost as the coming dawn of a new day. Only Irasmus’s tower stained that brilliance with darkness, rising like a finger of menace pointing skyward.
Even as the Sasqua silently withdrew to the Forest and Her who waited for them there, so the people of the Valley followed Fogar and Cerlyn back into their long-barren heartland.
As the group neared the sorcerer’s stronghold, the Wind wrapped itself about that fortress and, like a giant hand, closed into a fist to crush what it held. The outline of the tower blurred; stones thundered to the ground, falling with enough force to bring those who watched to their knees.
Only Fogar and Cerlyn remained standing, the two steadying each other with their arms, and looked their last upon the site of their imprisonment—and meeting. As the echoes of that mighty crash died away, they turned to face their own path: the place where Firthdun had once stood. After a little while, the rest of the people rose, to take likewise the old, remembered roads through the land where they would root again.
Over a celebrated career that has already spanned six decades, ANDRE NORTON, has written many highly regarded works of fantasy and science fiction, including Scent of Magic, Mirror of Destiny, The Hands of Lyr, Brother to Shadows, and the popular Witch World and Beast Master series. She has received lifetime achievement awards in both science fiction and fantasy, the most prestigious honors in her field. Ms. Norton presently resides in Tennessee.
About the Author
Andre Norton is one of the most distinguished science fiction and fantasy writers of all time. She was the recipient of a Life Achievement Award from the World Fantasy Convention and was honored as a Grand Master by the Science Fiction Writers of America. Her books have sold tens of millions of copies worldwide and have been translated into more than a dozen languages.
Miss Norton was born in Ohio, where she lived for many years. She also lived in central Florida for some time before moving to Murfreesboro, Tennessee, where she presides over High Hallack. Discover more about Miss Norton, her work, and High Hallack at her Web site www.andre-norton.org.
All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 1998 by Andre Norton
ISBN: 978-1-5040-4836-1
This edition published in 2017 by Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.
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The Scent of Magic