Lost Lands of Witch World by Andre Norton Read Free Book Online

cheeks.
    â€œAs we gave you life,” she said, “so have you returned that gift, oh, my children!”
    She took a small vial from the table and threw its contents upon the now dying coals in the brazier.
    There was a flash of fire and in that moved things. But the nature of them, or what they did, I could not say. They were gone again and I was blinking, no longer a part, but myself alone.
    Now my mother no longer smiled, but was intent. And that intentness was no longer concentrated upon her own concerns, but upon the three of us.
    â€œThus it must be: I go my way, and you take another road. What I can do, I shall—believe that, my children! It is not the fault of any of us that our destiny is so riven apart. I am going to seek your father—for he still lives—elsewhere. You have another fate before you. Use what is bred in you and it shall be a sword which never breaks nor fails, a shield which will ever cover you. Perhaps, in the end, we shall find our separate roads are one after all. Which would be good fortune past all telling!”

II
    I t was thus that our mother rode out of our lives on a hot midsummer morning when the dust rose in yellow puffs under the hooves of the mounts and the sky was cloudless. We watched her go from the walk on the tower. Twice she looked back and up, and the last time she raised her hand in a warrior’s salute—to which Kemoc and I made fitting return in formal fashion, the brilliant sun mirroring on the blades of our drawn swords. But Kaththea, between us, shivered as if chill fingers of an outseason wind touched her. And Kemoc’s left hand sought hers, to cover it where fingers gripped the parapet.
    â€œI saw him,” she said, “when she drew upon us in the search—I saw him—all alone—there were rocks, tall rocks and curling water—” This time her shudder shook her whole thin frame.
    â€œWhere?” Kemoc demanded.
    Our sister shook her head. “I cannot tell, but it was far—and more than distance of land and sea lies between.”
    â€œNot enough to keep her from the searching,” I said as I sheathed my sword. There was a sense of loss in me, but who can measure the loss of what one has never had? My mother and father dwelt inwardly together in a world they had made their own, unlike most other husbands and wives I had noted. To them that world was complete and all others were interlopers. There was
no
Power, good or evil, which could hold the Lady Jaelithe from her present quest as long as breath was in her. And had we offered aid in her search, she would have put us aside.
    â€œWe are together.” Kemoc had picked my thought out of my skull, as was common with us.
    â€œFor how long?” Again Kaththea shivered and we turned quickly to her, my hand again to weapon hilt, Kemoc’s on her shoulder.
    â€œYou mean?” he asked, but I thought that I had the answer.
    â€œSeeresses ride with warriors. You need not remain here when Otkell allows us to join the Borderers!”
    â€œSeeresses!” she repeated with emphasis. Kemoc’s hold on her grew tighter, and then I, too, understood.
    â€œThe Witches will not take you for training! Our parents forbade it.”
    â€œOur parents are no longer here to speak!” Kemoc flung at me.
    Then fear claimed us. For the training of a Witch was not like a warrior’s daily use of sword, dart gun, or axe. She went away from all those of her blood, to a distant place of mysteries, there to abide for years. When she returned she no longer recognized kin of blood, only kinship with those of her calling. If they took Kaththea from us to become one of their gray robed ranks she might be lost forever. And what Kemoc had said was very true—with Simon and the Lady Jaelithe gone, who remained who could put a strong barrier between our sister and the desires of the Council?
    Thus from that hour our life lay under a shadow. And the fear