Silverthorn (Riftware Sage Book 2)

Gamina bit her lower lip slightly. Gardan was struck by the fact the girl was showing considerable bravery. From what little he had heard of the girl’s lot, it had been a terrible one. To grow up in a world where people were always suspicious and hostile, and those thoughts were always heard, must have kept the child on the edge of madness. For her to trust these men at all bordered on the heroic. Rogen’s kindness and love must have been endless to counterbalance the pain this child had known. Gardan thought that if any man deserved the occasionally bestowed title of “saint” the temples used for their heroes and martyrs, then it was Rogen.

 

More conversation passed between Pug and Gamina, all silent. Finally Pug said, “Speak so we might all hear. All these men are your friends, child, and they will need to hear your story to stop Rogen and others from being hurt again.”

 

Gamina nodded. I was with Rogen.

 

“What do you mean?” asked Pug.

 

When he used his second sight, I went with him.

 

“How were you able?” said Kulgan.

 

Sometimes when someone thinks things, or sees things, I can see or hear what they do. It’s hard when they aren’t thinking at me. I can do it best with Rogen. I could see what he saw, in my mind.

 

Kulgan pushed the child slightly away so he might better look at her. “Do you mean to say you can see Rogen’s visions?” The girl nodded. “What about dreams?”

 

Sometimes.

 

Kulgan hugged her tightly. “Oh, what a fine child you are! Two miracles in one day! Thank you, wonderful child!”

 

Gamina smiled, the first happy expression any of them had seen. Pug threw him a questioning look, and Kulgan said, “Your son can speak to animals.” Pugs jaw dropped, and the stout magician continued, “But that is not important for the moment. Gamina, what did Rogen see that hurt him so badly?”

 

Gamina began to tremble and Kulgan held her closely. It was had. He saw a city burning and people being hurt by bad creatures.

 

Pug said, “Do you know the city? Is it some place you and Rogen have seen?”

 

Gamina shook her head, her big eyes seemingly as round as saucers. No. It was just a city.

 

“What else?” asked Pug gently.

 

The girl shivered. He saw something . . . a man? There was a strong feeling of confusion, as if she was dealing with concepts she could not fully comprehend. The man? saw Rogen.

 

Dominic said softly, “How could something in a seeing sense the seer? A vision is a prophetic look at what might happen. What sort of thing could sense a magic witness across the barriers of time and probability?”

 

Pug nodded. “Gamina, what did this ‘man’ do to Rogen?”

 

It? He? reached out and hurt him. He? said some words.

 

Katala entered the room, and the child looked up at her expectantly. Katala said, “He’s fallen into a deep, normal sleep. I think he will recover now.” She came up behind the chair Kulgan sat in and leaned on the back; she reached down and cupped Gamina’s chin. “You should be getting to bed, child.”

 

Pug said, “A little longer.” Katala sensed her husband was concerned with something vital and nodded agreement. He said, “Just before he fainted, Rogen used a word. It is important for me to know where he heard that word. I think he heard the thing, the bad man, in the vision use the word. I need to know what Rogen heard the bad man say. Can you remember the words, Gamina?”

 

She laid her head down on Kulgan’s chest and nodded only slightly, obviously afraid to remember them. Pug spoke in reassuring tones. “Would you tell them to us?”

 

No. But I can show you.

 

“How?” asked Pug.

 

I can show you what Rogen saw, she answered. I just can.

 

“All of us?” asked Kulgan. She nodded. The tiny girl sat up in Kulgan’s lap and took a deep breath, as if steeling herself. Then she closed her eyes and took them all into a dark place.

 

Black clouds raced overhead, angry on the bitter wind. Storms threatened the city. Massive gates lay shattered, for engines of war had worked their destruction on wood and iron. Everywhere fires burned out of control as a city died. Creatures and men savaged those found hiding in cellars and attics, and blood pooled in the gutters of the streets. In the central market a mound of bodies had been piled nearly twenty feet high. Atop the corpses rested a platform of dark wood, upon which a throne had been placed. A moredhel of striking appearance sat on the throne, surveying the chaos his servants had visited upon the city. At his side stood a figure draped all in black robes, deep hood and large sleeves hiding every physical clue as to what manner of creature it was.

 

But the attention of Pug and the others was drawn to something beyond the pair, a presence of darkness, some strange unseen thing that could be felt. Lurking in the background, it was the true source of power behind the two upon the platform. The black-robed creature pointed at something, and a green-scaled hand could be seen. Somehow, the presence behind the two made contact, made itself known to the onlookers. It knew it was being observed, and its response was one of anger and disdain. It reached out with alien powers and spoke, carrying to those in the room a message of grey despair.