Quiet Magic by Steve Miller, Sharon Lee and Steve Miller Read Free Book Online Page B

amazement. "I--did not fail?"
    "You did not," the Master
said.
    "But--I did nothing. I can --
"
    He shook his head, the smile in his
eyes touching his lips. "You held."
    Their eyes touched for a moment, then
the Master broke contact and moved toward the boy.
    "Authberk."
    He looked up, flinched back in what
might have been terror. The Master held up a restraining hand, but
Authberk hurled himself to his feet.
    "No!" he cried. "I won't look! You
can't make me forget! You won't take it away! I'm strong! I can
call--Look!"
    Petrie heard it coming, spun to the
north and stared up into the sky where--something--was building.
Something... A monster wind, black and nearly shapeless, its maw
drooling sleet. The grass in the glade flattened in its wake; the
curtains in the wagon twisted and snapped. From inside, came the
sound of breaking glass.
    Petrie cried out in horror, saw the
Master leap forward and catch the boy by both shoulders. Somehow,
she heard the murmuring words over the wind's raging, knew that
Authberk's saving was the Master's first responsibility. She
glanced again at the wagon, saw the flicker of flames on the wild
curtains. The oil lamp had broken!
    Petrie cried out again, this time in
anger, and heard in that deep portion of herself the hunting cry of
an ice-and-feather dog. High up, she saw the pup, nipping at the
monster's heels, harrying.
    The monster flipped a careless limb,
sending the pup spinning. Petrie threw up both her hands, as she
had seen the Master do, and called in that deep part of her,
demanding allies to drive the enemy off!
    They came. She felt them surge past
her, saw the cat-wind the Master had first hurled at her, and the
elephant-wind and the others that must have tried the temper of her
Will. Past her they rushed, leaping for the monster roofing the
sky, leaving behind the smells of cinnamon, warm fur, wet
leaves...
    Surrounded, the monster halted. It
flailed out, seeking to break free. The elephant-wind stopped that
blow and the cat leapt in, teeth gleaming.
    Petrie slammed her hands against her
outer ears, but that did not prevent her from hearing the
death-scream of the monster. It reverberated in the depths of her,
building until she thought she must scream in answer--and was gone.
The other winds drifted for a moment, then they were gone, as
well.
    Petrie shook her head, suddenly
remembering the burning curtains. She turned toward the
wagon.
    "That's taken care of," a warm-taffy
voice spoke nearby. "A little damage, mostly to the curtains.
Nothing irreplaceable lost. My thanks to you, child."
    She turned toward the Master, blinking
stupidly. They were alone. Her head felt heavy, and she put up a
hand to rub at the ache in her forehead.
    "Authberk?" she asked.
    The Master gestured. "On his way home.
Remembering nothing."
    Petrie frowned. "He was
strong."
    "So he was. But he had not the Will to
withstand even two of the winds I sent against him. He had no core
of strength on which to build." The Master paused, head bent,
considering the worn silver band.
    "Only weakness relies on power from
without to accomplish its will," he said. He looked up and held out
a hand. Petrie slid her own into it.
    "Let us go inside and sleep, child.
Tomorrow, we must travel."
     
    First published in Dragon Magazine
#84 , 1984
     
     

 
     
    Candlelight
    Sharon Lee and Steve Miller
     
    THE LUNCH BELL had been a hundred
years in ringing.
    He'd been surprised when it did,
though he'd been anticipating its song for half the long morning.
It sounded no different than any of the other dozen bells that had
been ringing without purpose since he had entered the school
building that morning. It had been left to his more tenured
classmates to note the difference he did not hear, close their
arithmetic books as one, and, dragging brown paper bags from their
desks, line up at the door to the hallway.
    He closed his own book, grabbed his
bag from under the chair and took his place in line behind Sally
Benrum, who stuck