[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
. Didn t make it, huh? Benj said. Well, there ought to be a phone in therestaurant.Anything else we can do? David shook his head. I guess not.Thanks for the help, though. Our pleasure but keep quiet about the Crazy Deer, okay? Right.uh, what do you guys think about it, anyway? The rangers exchanged glances again. To be honest, son, we don t know what tothink.Sure didn t look like your regular old Georgia whitetail, though.Norlike any deer I ever saw, to tell the truth not moose, not elk, not evencaribou. Well, if we see it again, we ll give you a holler, David called as the menheaded back to their vehicle.Benj paused with his hand on the door handle. You do that, son.You keep aclose eye out. Chapter VII: Lugh s Stables(Tir-Nan-Og high summer)p.59In the cold, dim light of early morning, Tir-Nan-Og seemed an islandshrouded by a veil of mist.The sun had not yet risen, and fog hung among the trees like ghostlytapestries.The empty plains were silent, the forest tracks yet sleeping.Thewind was still.Even the great dome-shelled Watchers relaxed their vigilance,their tiny brains awash with dreams of darkness.In all Lugh s realm, in fact, three minds alone were fully conscious, and onlyone of them was sapient.Locked in a stall of pure white marble in the sprawl of the High King spalace, Fionna had not slept for the three days that had passed in Tir-Nan-Og(nor the nine that had lapsed in the Lands of Men) sinceMorwyn had trapped her in horse shape.The first day she had been too angry either to think or to take any action.The second she had spent in consideration of her circumstances.On the thirdday she was ready.Taken by themselves, the fourfold shaping spells she had drawn upon herselfwould have been no problem to escape.She had touched them before and knewtheir form and structure.But Morwyn s binding had complicated her plans considerably, for it hadinsinuated itself through theGenerated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.htmllayered sorceries and locked them tight around her.It had taken her a longtime to find the gaps, but the enchantments Caitlin had contrived, and towhich Lugh and Nuada and the Morrigu had each applied their Power, had beenPage 39 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlset to hold another body and to drown another memory.Thus they did not fither quite precisely.It therefore took Fionna the better part of a day to twist her thought throughthe innermost entrapment.It was subtle work and painful, so she workedcarefully, removing the substance of the bindings a thread at a time, as onemight unravel fabric and yet preserve the pattern.The first shape-spell shebroke this way;the second followed quickly.The third was far more trouble, for the weavingthere was tighter, yet it she breached as well, straining her Power throughp.60like water through fine linen.The fourth was[as]easiest of all, for by then almost nothing remained of horse-thought todistract her.By dawn Morwyn s spell alone retained its substance, like a hard layer oflacquer casing the fragile filaments of the other four.That one had been madefor her and fitted her much better, yet it too had a weakness.In her finaldesperation, Fionna had sent a Shaping arrowing toward Ailill, and thoughMorwyn had broken off that contact, the way of its passage had left a frayedspot in her sorcery.It was a tiny thing, that thinning, yet Fionna found it,and poured her Power through.Part of her was free now, though not corporeal.A moment later there was more.She split her Power then, and applied it to her bindings both from outside andwithin.There was resistance at first, but then a weakening that became moreobvious as she put forth greater effort.Suddenly Morwyn s spell collapsed, and with it the other four pooled away tonothing, like melted ice.One moment Fionna was a black horse; a moment later a fair-skinned,black-haired woman.She smiled her exultation. Morwyn, your head is mine! she whispered. As soon as I find my brother. Fionna studied the entrance of her prison.Statues of rampant stallions carvedfrom jet-black marble flanked the opening; the double doors of the gates werea grillwork of cast brass, their junctures bridged by four hand-sized knotworkmedallions wrought of gold-wound iron human work that, and very dangerous [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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. Didn t make it, huh? Benj said. Well, there ought to be a phone in therestaurant.Anything else we can do? David shook his head. I guess not.Thanks for the help, though. Our pleasure but keep quiet about the Crazy Deer, okay? Right.uh, what do you guys think about it, anyway? The rangers exchanged glances again. To be honest, son, we don t know what tothink.Sure didn t look like your regular old Georgia whitetail, though.Norlike any deer I ever saw, to tell the truth not moose, not elk, not evencaribou. Well, if we see it again, we ll give you a holler, David called as the menheaded back to their vehicle.Benj paused with his hand on the door handle. You do that, son.You keep aclose eye out. Chapter VII: Lugh s Stables(Tir-Nan-Og high summer)p.59In the cold, dim light of early morning, Tir-Nan-Og seemed an islandshrouded by a veil of mist.The sun had not yet risen, and fog hung among the trees like ghostlytapestries.The empty plains were silent, the forest tracks yet sleeping.Thewind was still.Even the great dome-shelled Watchers relaxed their vigilance,their tiny brains awash with dreams of darkness.In all Lugh s realm, in fact, three minds alone were fully conscious, and onlyone of them was sapient.Locked in a stall of pure white marble in the sprawl of the High King spalace, Fionna had not slept for the three days that had passed in Tir-Nan-Og(nor the nine that had lapsed in the Lands of Men) sinceMorwyn had trapped her in horse shape.The first day she had been too angry either to think or to take any action.The second she had spent in consideration of her circumstances.On the thirdday she was ready.Taken by themselves, the fourfold shaping spells she had drawn upon herselfwould have been no problem to escape.She had touched them before and knewtheir form and structure.But Morwyn s binding had complicated her plans considerably, for it hadinsinuated itself through theGenerated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.htmllayered sorceries and locked them tight around her.It had taken her a longtime to find the gaps, but the enchantments Caitlin had contrived, and towhich Lugh and Nuada and the Morrigu had each applied their Power, had beenPage 39 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlset to hold another body and to drown another memory.Thus they did not fither quite precisely.It therefore took Fionna the better part of a day to twist her thought throughthe innermost entrapment.It was subtle work and painful, so she workedcarefully, removing the substance of the bindings a thread at a time, as onemight unravel fabric and yet preserve the pattern.The first shape-spell shebroke this way;the second followed quickly.The third was far more trouble, for the weavingthere was tighter, yet it she breached as well, straining her Power throughp.60like water through fine linen.The fourth was[as]easiest of all, for by then almost nothing remained of horse-thought todistract her.By dawn Morwyn s spell alone retained its substance, like a hard layer oflacquer casing the fragile filaments of the other four.That one had been madefor her and fitted her much better, yet it too had a weakness.In her finaldesperation, Fionna had sent a Shaping arrowing toward Ailill, and thoughMorwyn had broken off that contact, the way of its passage had left a frayedspot in her sorcery.It was a tiny thing, that thinning, yet Fionna found it,and poured her Power through.Part of her was free now, though not corporeal.A moment later there was more.She split her Power then, and applied it to her bindings both from outside andwithin.There was resistance at first, but then a weakening that became moreobvious as she put forth greater effort.Suddenly Morwyn s spell collapsed, and with it the other four pooled away tonothing, like melted ice.One moment Fionna was a black horse; a moment later a fair-skinned,black-haired woman.She smiled her exultation. Morwyn, your head is mine! she whispered. As soon as I find my brother. Fionna studied the entrance of her prison.Statues of rampant stallions carvedfrom jet-black marble flanked the opening; the double doors of the gates werea grillwork of cast brass, their junctures bridged by four hand-sized knotworkmedallions wrought of gold-wound iron human work that, and very dangerous [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]