Lightnings Daughter by Mary Herbert (android based ebook reader .txt) 📗

not offer his guests food or drink. When he spoke again, he simply said, "Your need must be urgent for you to break our door."

"If you had answered us in the first place, Uncle, she wouldn't have had to do that,” Athlone snapped.

The high priest turned toward the chieftain. The man's face was stil hidden by the hood of his robe, but his eyes burned in the firelight. Athlone gritted his teeth and met his uncle's stare. He had turned away from Seth's merciless eyes once, a year ago, but he would not do it this time. He forced his eyes to remain steady on the unblinking, penetrating glare. It was like looking into the eyes of a cobra.

Seth suddenly threw back his hood. Athlone and Gabria were surprised to see a sardonic smile twist up the corner of his mouth.

"You have grown stronger since last summer, Nephew," Seth stated. "Now, why are you here?"

"We think Lord Branth used the Book of Matrah to summon a gorthling,” Gabria stated flatly.

To her dismay, Seth's emotionless, hard-lined face actually blanched. "How do you know?"

Gabria described her vision, the events at Pra Desh, and Branth's subsequent actions. When she repeated the message spoken by the dead man, Seth's mouth tightened.

"From what we know of gorthlings, I believe you are right,” he said. "The creature has invaded the man's body."

The sorceress nodded. "I was hoping something in your library could help us. We have to find some way to destroy it."

The high priest was silent, as if caught up in some internal debate. Then, without a word, he took a torch from a bracket, lit it in the fire, and strode toward the stairs. Athlone and Gabria hurried after him.

The woman glanced up at the gallery overhead and gasped; shadowy forms stood in the arched doorways. The figures melted back into the darkness as the high priest walked up the stairs, and by the time Athlone and Gabria reached the top, the gal ery was empty. Nevertheless, the two clanspeople sensed the wary, watchful presences that lurked just out of sight in the lightless corners.

Seth paid no heed to his men nearby, but walked on through a maze of hal s and corridors, past closed doors, down stone stairwel s, and deep into the heart of the citadel. Everywhere they went, Athlone and Gabria felt, rather than heard or saw, the constant attendance of the unseen watchers.

At last Seth came to a stout door that was bolted with a brass locking mechanism. The two clanspeople watched in fascination while the priest drew a key from his sash and deftly undid the myriad bolts. He pushed open the door and walked in.

Athlone and Gabria stepped inside and looked about in wonder. The large room was lined with shelves. Though many of the boards were empty, about one hundred books and manuscripts lay piled in various places around the room.

Books were a rarity to the clans, for they were difficult to obtain and a nuisance to move from place to place. Normally only healers, priests, and clan chieftains could read, although occasionally the wer-tains, the chieftains' families, or the priestesses of Amara learned the difficult skill. Gabria had never been taught, and as she looked over the Oathbreakers' precious volumes, she thought she would one day like to learn.

"I thought Medb's men destroyed your books," she said to Seth.

"Some of them, yes. But we were able to hide the most important ones." He set his torch in a bracket on the wal and gestured to a table and benches in the middle of the room. Silently he searched through the priceless collection of books.

"I'm afraid there is very little here that will help you,” he said, studying the tomes.

Gabria's heart sank. She had hoped desperately that the Oathbreakers would have some useful information. She did not know where else to turn. "Do you know of anyone else who might know?" she forced herself to ask.

The high priest pul ed out several volumes and shoved them back. "I've read al of these. They are just general essays on magic. The problem is that there was never much written about gorthlings. All we know is that they are easy enough to summon, but they are treacherous, cunning, and vicious. If they taste blood, they can inhabit any body they choose. Once that happens, it becomes extremely difficult to send them back,”

"Send them back where?" Athlone asked.

"A gorthling cannot be destroyed or kil ed, it must be sent back to Sorh in the realm of the dead."

"How?" Gabria cried in exasperation.

Seth's reply was chil ing. "I don't know how. The only ones who ever summoned a gorthling successfully were Matrah and Valorian. Matrah's spells are probably in his tome."

Gabria sighed. "That doesn't help us much."

"What about Valorian?" Athlone suggested.

"Valorian never wrote anything down. He did not wish those spel s concerning the gorthlings to be remembered."

The chieftain threw his hands up and paced restlessly to the shelves. "So now we are stuck with a bloodthirsty creature bent on destroying Gabria, and we have no hope of getting rid of it."

Seth turned his basilisk stare on his nephew. "I did not say there was no hope. The gorthling's human body is vulnerable like any other flesh, and its ability to use sorcery is limited by its own knowledge and its body's weaknesses. It can be destroyed, but you wil need strength, ingenuity, and courage."

"A few words of instruction would be better," Gabria muttered. She half-turned to say something to Athlone when the heavy weight of the bag banged against her leg. She remembered the mask.

"Perhaps you could tel me what this is," she said, unwrapping the mask and laying it on the table before her.

Seth's cold expression did not change, but he reached out and touched the gold surface. "Where did you get this?"

"I found it in Moy Tura." The priest's head snapped up, and he