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"I was even more disappointed to learn you had survived your encounter with
the Isomage."
"Yes. Well, you saved my life, and now you bring me here on one of Adonna's
horses which I presume
I will not be arrested for stealing and treat me with civility and even
respect, though you keep calling me Man-child."
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"My apologies. All humans are children to me. Shiafa is a child, and she is
three times older than you, by
Earth time."
Michael shrugged. "All right. I don't understand why your attitude toward me
has changed."
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"Sidhe take advantage of fortune and misfortune alike. My misfortune that
you have survived and matured is also my daughter's fortune, for the Crane
Women are gone "
"Dead?"
There was a hint of the old Tarax in the Sidhe's long, patient silence and
slow blink. "They are gone," he repeated, "and my daughter needs to be
trained. Only you can pass along the discipline of the Crane
Women."
"What about Biridashwa Biri? He was trained by the Crane Women."
"He is a Sidhe. You are a Breed. It is necessary that Breeds train."
"Why?" Michael asked.
Shiafa had hardly moved during this exchange. Now she pushed away from Tarax
and, without a word, mounted behind Michael.
"There is subtlety in Breed discipline," Tarax said. "That subtlety is
necessary for an initiate to the Maln."
Michael sensed this was not the complete truth.
"Is there still a priesthood? I've heard Adonna is dead and the Councils are
dissolved."
"Adonna is dead," Tarax said. "The creation is sundered and will soon die. But
there is still need for a priesthood. Train my daughter, and you will learn
where the Isomage keeps your woman."
"What will I teach her?" Michael asked, looking back over his shoulder at
Shiafa.
But Tarax was already fading. The Sidhe's black robes smeared like paint in
water. His face and hands and feet lengthened into blurred lines. A billow of
mist flashed and danced around him, and he was gone.
"I will be first priestess to the new mage," Shiafa said, her voice husky and
musical and enchanting. "My father." She gripped Michael's hips with her
long-fingered hands. "You will train me on Earth "
"I'll train you where 1 damn well please," Michael said, reacting with anger
to his arousal at her touch.
"Whatever I'm going to teach you, I'll start in the Realm. We have work to
do."
The new mage
. Michael brought the horse around and urged it back along the cylinder's
length.
"Our first job is to undo all your father and the Sidhe have done with humans
in the Realm," he said. "If you refuse to help, then I'll cut you loose here
and you can return to Tarax."
"I will help," Shiafa said without inflection. Michael glanced back at her
with some surprise. Her eyes were closed to slits. "You are the master of
discipline. But we will not have much time. My father will dissolve the Realm
any day now."
"Heir to Adonna, eh?" Michael asked, as the dusty wind beat at them from
around the floating graveyard.
Shiafa said nothing.
The ice beneath the Realm was cracked and veined and calving into huge,
drifting spikes and bergs. With some difficulty, Michael found the shaft
leading back to the Irall, and they rose to the surface of the
Realm.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Contents - Prev / Next
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Bear, Greg - Songs of Earth and Power Vol. 2 - The Serpent Mage
The night of the failing Realm was impenetrably dark. The ribbon of moon that
had once stretched across the sky, and all the twirling stars congealing into
a fixed night canopy, had gone. There was nothing but cold wind and the
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soughing of the grass around their campfire.
Michael had started the fire by extending his hyloka to one finger and
igniting a small pyre of dried wood and leaves. Shiafa watched him with some
interest and then experimented on her own pile of leaves. She, too, was able
to light a small blaze, which she then heaped on the bigger fire. She turned
her large pale blue-green eyes on Michael and blinked.
"I'm not sure there's anything I can teach you," Michael said. "My skills are
crude."
She said nothing, but went to the horse and removed a comb from her pack, then
began currying the animal's short, tight-packed fur swiftly from neck to
withers.
"There are people here humans," Michael said. "I know some of them. I'd like
to get them out of the
Realm before it collapses."
Shiafa nodded.
"Do you have any suggestions?"
"The Ban of Hours defies my father," she said. "You might consult with her."
"Is she still in Inyas Trai?"
"No. The city is empty."
Truth so far
, he thought.
"She's protecting the humans?"
Pulling back from a long stroke that made the animal shiver with pleasure,
Shiafa shook her .head. "I do not know."
"You speak English well," Michael said. Neither Tarax nor his daughter had
resorted to in-speaking.
"Where did you learn it?"
"From my
Mafoc Mar
," she said. "My Bag Mother. She attended the Mab on Earth before the final
flight to the Realm. The Mab had dealings with English and Scots. And my
father has been to Earth since."
"Your father still hates humans."
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