Silverthorn (Riftware Sage Book 2)

The Abbot was about to answer when Jimmy said, “What is that?”

 

 

All eyes turned to look where he pointed. Glowing low on the horizon was a blue light, brightening as if a star were growing before their eyes. Martin said, “It looks like a falling star.”

 

Then they could see it was no star. A faint sound in the distance accompanied the approaching object. Brighter it grew, as the sound grew louder, more angry. Racing across the sky toward them was a blue fire. Suddenly it was speeding directly over the tower with a sizzling sound, like a hot iron passing through water.

 

Then Brother Dominic shouted, “Off the tower, quickly!”

 

 

 

 

 

ELEVEN - Clash

 

 

They hesitated for a moment.

 

Dominic’s warning was followed by a shout from Micah, and the others hurried down the stair. Halfway to the ground floor, Dominic faltered, swaying a little on his feet. “Something approaches.”

 

Reaching the main floor, Arutha and the others hurried to the door and looked out. In the sky above, more of the glowing objects streaked overhead with unbelievable speed. First from one quarter of the sky, then another, they sped, their strange, ominous droning filling the night. Faster and faster they shot through the air, streaks of blue, green, yellow, and red, angry flashes of brilliance ripping through the dark.

 

“What are they?” shouted Jimmy.

 

“Magic sentinels of some kind,” answered the Abbot. “I can sense they are searching the area they pass over.”

 

Slowly the pattern changed; instead of passing directly overhead, they began to curve and fly off at a tangent to their original course. Those below could see that the objects were slowing in their flight. The curving course tightened, until the glowing objects sped through the night in great arcs overhead. Then they slowed even more, gaining definition. They were large spheres, pulsing with a bright inner light, and inside could be seen strange dark shapes, somehow disturbing in appearance. They continued to slow until they hovered and spiraled, forming a circle above the abbey courtyard. Once the circle was formed, twelve glowing spheres could be seen hanging silently and motionless over the courtyard. Then, with a deep snapping, buzzing sound painful to the ears, lines of energy shot across the gap between each pair and six lines joined the sphere. Then a line formed around the periphery so that now the spheres formed a dodecagon.

 

“What are these things?” Gardan wondered aloud.

 

“The Twelve Eyes,” the Abbot said in awe, “an ancient and evil spell of legend. No one living is said to have the power to form this thing. It is both a vehicle for seeing and a weapon.”

 

Then the spheres slowly began to move. Gaining speed, they began weaving an intricate pattern, the lines twisting maddeningly, beyond the ability of the eye to follow. Faster they spun, until they became a blurring solid of light. A shaft of energy shot down from the center, striking some invisible barrier above the roofs of the buildings.

 

Dominic screamed in pain and had to be caught by Martin. The monk’s hands pressed hard against his temples and he said, “So powerful. I can scarcely believe . . .” He opened eyes running with tears and said, “The barriers are holding. “

 

Father John said, “Brother Dominic’s mind is the keystone to the mystic defenses of the abbey. He is being sorely tested.”

 

Again angry energies shot downward, to be scattered across the invisible barrier, like a multicolored shower above their heads. Shards of mystic rainbow light streaked down the sides of the magic barrier, defining the dome above the abbey for the eye to see. But again the barrier held. Then another, and another, and soon Arutha and the others could see that the barrier was being pushed lower each time. With each assault, Dominic would cry out in pain. Then, with explosive fury, a single shaft of blinding white light struck the barrier and broke through, searing the ground with an angry hiss and acrid odor.

 

With the attack, Brother Dominic stiffened in Martin’s arms and groaned. “It is entering,” he whispered before he passed into unconsciousness.

 

As Martin lowered the monk to the floor, Father John said, “I must go to my vestry. Brother Micah, you must hold it.”

 

Micah told them, “Whatever is out there has breached a mystic defense second only to that at our father temple. Now I must face it. I am armed and shielded by Ishap,” the old monk said in ritual, as he unlimbered the war hammer at his belt.