Haven Magic by B. V. Larson Read Free Book Online

the cliffs just now was the same, or a different one?”
    “Most likely the same,” reported Brand. Could there be many of these shadow men? The thought was alarming. He turned on the driver’s board and eyed the forests around them. Suddenly, they seemed far less friendly. “Do you know this man?”
    “I should say not!” shouted Tylag with sudden intensity. He was loud enough to attract the attention of Jak and Corbin, who turned to look at them. Seeing Brand’s uncomprehending stare, Tylag waved away his concern with his large hands. “It matters nothing, boy. What is important is that I get you to see Myrrdin straight away.”
    “Myrrdin!” gasped Brand. “The Clanless One?”
    Tylag nodded firmly. “The same.”
    Brand fell silent for a time. It seemed that all his worst fears were being realized. Myrrdin was a traveling man from distant lands who aided with the Harvest Moon ceremonies each year. It was clear he was no peddler, and no one knew where his home was, or even if he had one. Some wagging tongues had gone so far as to label him a wizard, although most of the clearer heads scoffed at this idea. Wizards were myths—the talk of legends like the stories about the Dragon’s Eyes, the colored Jewels of power. The Faerie, however—they were very real.
    If this involved Myrrdin, then it certainly involved the Faerie as well. The thought of it made Brand go cold inside. All he could think of was the old stories that his mother had told him as a child. The terrible wonders of the Faerie were without number.
    They traveled the rest of the way without talking much. The usual festive mood that buoyed up the last few days before the Harvest Moon feast was absent. Even Tator seemed dispirited, his tail and ears drooping.
    They clopped and swayed their way into Riverton, greeted by passersby on the road. As they entered the town, Corbin’s brothers led aside the sheep to the stockyards. There were many complements on the generosity of the offerings they were bringing. Brand and Jak swelled with pride. They were running Rabing Isle on their own, but they weren’t slackers. Their father had brought no more or less to the Harvest Moon in years past.
    They wound up the hill to where the nicer houses and the largest buildings were. In the center of town, where the guildhouses and the shops huddled close to the road, there was even a section of cobblestones. Tator perked up here, as if he were proud to pull his cart through the best street in town.
    It was here that they stopped before the gates of the manor house of the Drake clan. The Drakes were the wealthiest and most influential clan on Stone Island. It was at their ancestral home that the clan leaders held council. Although it wasn’t as spacious as the common room of the Spotted Hog Inn , where the town meetings were generally held, it afforded much more privacy.
    “I’ll go on in and announce us,” said Tylag, climbing down with a grunt. The driver’s board straightened in relief. Brand watched as Tylag walked through the ancient iron gates and up the path to the manor. The gates were never locked; in fact, it had been so many years since they had been shut that the hinges had frozen with rust.
    Brand felt a slight rocking of the wagon. He looked around and was surprised to see Telyn sitting beside him, just biting into an apple. She grinned at his expression.
    “My, but you’re getting tall,” she said.
    “Telyn!” he breathed, unable to get out more.
    “You should look behind you more often,” she commented. Brand made a wry face, but it was half-hearted. She was so pretty, even with her rather stringy-looking, reddish-blonde hair and her stained, green leathers smelling of the tannery vats. The delicacy of her face and piercing gray-blue eyes came through all that. He felt his heart leap just at the sight of her. He watched a drop of apple juice run down her hand for a moment before he was able to reply.
    “You’re always sneaking up on