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eBook Category: Fantasy
eBook Description: Lauren, a white-path wizard, was not at all please to discover that Master Fen, head of the Wizards' Council, had sent the blue-path wizard Garrin Windson to travel with her to Rasston and help with the job she had been sent to do. Garrin's reputation was dubious at best--would he be a help or a hindrance? Of course, Garrin didn't think she should be here either. It promised to be an interesting trip.

eBook Publisher: Marion Zimmer Bradley Literary Works Trust, Published: Sword & Sorceress 20, 2003
Fictionwise Release Date: March 2009

19 Reader Ratings:

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Available eBook Formats [MultiFormat - What's this?]: eReader (PDB) [23 KB] , ePub (EPUB) [41 KB] , Rocket/REB1100 (RB) [16 KB] , Adobe Acrobat (PDF) [186 KB] , Palm Doc (PDB) [17 KB] , Microsoft Reader (LIT) [70 KB] , Franklin eBookMan (FUB) [88 KB] , hiebook (KML) [72 KB] , Sony Reader (LRF) [57 KB] , iSilo (PDB) [14 KB] , Mobipocket (PRC) [18 KB] , Kindle Compatible (MOBI) [53 KB] , OEBFF Format (IMP) [29 KB]
Words: 5186
Reading time: 14-20 min.
Microsoft Reader (LIT) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
Adobe Acrobat (PDF) Format:  Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
All Other formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED

From the top of a small rise, Lauren watched the dark-haired man poke at the fire-pit in her camp, setting sparks flashing in the dawn mist. The fellow wore the rough leathers of a mountain man, with his dark hair in the characteristic queue, but he was taller and leaner than most of his kind. Over his shoulder, she could make out the hilt of a two-handed sword.

When Lauren had climbed this hill to check the road, she'd left the bulk of her belongings, and her horse, below. The animal grazed placidly where she'd staked it, apparently unconcerned by the stranger--and he with it. He kept his attention on the fire-pit. An odd interest, Lauren thought, for a thief.

As a wizard of the White path, Lauren had only limited skills in magical attacks, but she'd learned to compensate for that lack. From its carrying case on her back, she drew a small crossbow and loaded it. She didn't relish this interruption of her journey to Rasston, where a serious problem needed her investigation. Still, she should be able to dispatch this annoyance quickly.

Finger on the trigger, she stalked down the hill, into the stranger's view.

"You there!"

The man looked up at her, then spread his hands before him. He was a clean-shaven, good-looking fellow in his early twenties, not the usual scruffy camp scavenger.

Keeping her aim on him, she edged closer. "Don't move."

There was no menace in his expression as he waited silently. His eyes were vivid blue, rare coloring even among the light-eyed mountain people. There was something familiar about the man, now that Lauren saw him closely. But she couldn't quite match the resemblance to anyone she knew. "State your business."

He shrugged slightly, keeping his hands extended. "Sean the Bard at your service, ma'am. I'm trying to find a live coal. Easier than starting my own fire."

A plausible explanation, Lauren thought, except morning was usually the time to bank fires, not light then. And why did he look so familiar? She stared at his face, thinking those eyes should not be easy to forget.

"May I put my hands down please?" His vowels, she noted, were nasal, giving his speech the customary mountain twang. She glanced at his horse, which was grazing farther up the valley, and saw among the saddle packs a triangular outline that looked like a harp case. He seemed to be exactly what he claimed.

She considered for a moment, then lowered her bow. "All right, but no sudden moves."

"Thank you, dear lady. An arrow through the throat would do little to improve my signing. Although the other bards might thank you." He gave a smile that made his blue eyes crinkle. "Are you traveling my way? I'm heading to Rasston and would be happy for company on the road."

She almost accepted his offer. But then he tilted his head, glancing at her obliquely, and his identity came to her in a flash.

Garrin Windson. An awkward boy at Wizards' Keep, all knees and elbows, his face covered with pimples, his hair short and unruly, but the same blue eyes--and the same self-conscious turn of head. She'd been a novice mage, studying for journeyman status, and he a first-year apprentice.

Her heart hammered as she recalled the tales she'd heard of the man that boy had become, accusations, never proven, of heinous crimes: murder, treason, betrayal. They said he'd tried to steal power from one of the wizard Masters. Worse, they said he'd destroyed an entire village to pay back the rough treatment he'd received as an unwanted, half-blooded bastard child.

She brought her crossbow level again. The man's wizard powers, drawn from the strong Blue path, were reported to be enormous, more than a match for a simple quarrel. Still, the weapon gave her courage. "What are you really doing here, Mr. Windson?"

At the sound of his name, the cheerfulness fell from the man like a mask. "So you do recognize me."