Bastion of Darkness by R. A. Salvatore Read Free Book Online

of his sword. A hungry lion, he seemed, impatient for the kill, and with prey close by.
    That image of Bryan’s distress spurred Rhiannon on, urging her to try more forcefully. She sent her heart and soul into that pool of dark water, pricked her finger and gave to it a piece of herself, a bit of her own life blood, though as soon as she let the drop of red liquid fall to the pool, she realized to her horror that she would never get it back. Somehow, throwing herself into the magic had taken that bit away from her forevermore.
    She knew that beyond doubt, and suddenly the young witch found her breathing hard to come by. For all that she had learned in Avalon, the use of magic was not supposed to be like this. Her mother had practiced witchery for centuries, and had only grown, and surely had not diminished, by the summoning of universal powers. And yet, after only a few short months of truly coming into her power, Rhiannon felt weakened, felt as if the magicconstantly took from her, as if it would eventually absorb her completely. She thought of her father, then, the mortal human, and no wizard. Perhaps her magic wasn’t pure, she feared, for, unlike the four older wizards of Ynis Aielle, Rhiannon had not been taken away by the Colonnae to learn and experience the mysteries of the universe, that she might comprehend the universal powers she found at her fingertips.
    The young witch could not know, of course, that all the magic was tainted now, that her mother and Ardaz, Istaahl, and Thalasi, too, suffered a personal loss with each expenditure of magical energy. True to her suspicions, though, the cost was more profound for Rhiannon than for the others. So young and inexperienced, Rhiannon did not recognize the barriers that she had to cross with each spellcasting, and did not fully understand the cost until it had been exacted upon her increasingly frail frame.
    Desperate thoughts drifted away as the image in the divining pool at last came distinct. “Five o’ them,” the young witch said to Bryan, working hard to keep her voice sounding calm and steady. “Putting their camp on the rocky spur just south o’ Bendwillow Pass. We’ll find them easy enough, for they’re setting a big fire to ward off the chill.”
    Bryan instinctively looked to the northeast, the direction Rhiannon had indicated, as if expecting to see a campfire spring up against the darkening background. The spur Rhiannon had spoken of was well sheltered, though, and the young man knew logically that he would see nothing from this perspective, especially not now, with the sky still light from the last rays of the cold day.
    “Tonight,” he said quietly.
    Rhiannon tossed her black hair back from her face so that she could better view Bryan, for she knew that toneof his, the voice that Bryan held for occasions of planned mayhem.
    “Tomorrow,” Rhiannon replied against the young half-elf’s cold resolve.
    Bryan looked at her skeptically.
    “I’m needing me rest,” the young witch explained.
    Bryan nodded, and tried hard to look away from Rhiannon, not wanting his stare to seem accusatory. “Tomorrow,” he agreed, so obviously unhappy, but so obviously conciliatory to this woman. “When you are ready.”
    Bryan eyed Rhiannon often that evening, studying her whenever he thought her eyes focused on something else.
    Rhiannon knew. She felt his stares keenly, a gaze complete with silent sighs, the looks of an impatient lover. She knew them and understood well, because her own looks at young Bryan were not so different, she had to admit—to herself at least.
    They were not lovers, not yet, and neither had made any overt gesture of passion at all. Rhiannon, the older of the pair, wondered about that, wondered if Bryan felt the same stirring as she, and wondered if she should take the lead in their romance.
    But she could not, she realized, closing her eyes and seeking the solace of sleep. She could not even afford to think about it. Not out here, and