Sorcerer's Moon by Julian May Read Free Book Online

very likely conjured the evil Beaconfolk, and said only, 'Were they fearsome things?'
    'Not really. They seemed almost bewildered that a human being would call upon them. But I stated my request boldly, as you advised, and they asked if I was sure I wanted it. I said I did. There was a great flash of blueish light, brighter than the sun, and I remember nothing more.' He sighed. 'I suppose there's naught left to do but wait to see if my miracle will be granted. Just help me to my feet, lads. We should get going.'
    'Are you in pain, my brother?' Corodon asked.
    'Not at all. I feel healthy as a horse.'
    'Orrion -' Fresh tears sprang into Bramlow's dark eyes and he gave a wordless cry before turning his head away, unable to speak further.
    'What's wrong?' the Prince Heritor said in alarm.
    His twin regarded him with a strange expression. 'Brother, your miracle has already occurred, but not in the manner that you might have wished.' Slowly, he pulled open the blanketing cloak so that Orrion's body was exposed.
    The Heritor looked down at himself and felt his heart lurch.
    Impossible! There was no pain - indeed, he felt as though nothing at all had happened. The sleeve of his heavy leather jerkin and the woolen shirt beneath had been burnt away to a point just below the right elbow; his lower arm and hand felt as normal as always . . . but they had apparently been rendered invisible. When his left hand probed the anomaly he felt a smooth stump of healed flesh and bone at the end of his truncated right arm.
    'Gone,' he murmured, transfixed. 'Yet it seems as though it's still there. I've heard of men losing a limb in battle experiencing a like phenomenon. Odd, isn't it, lads?'
    'His mind wanders,' Corodon said. 'Poor devil.'
    'Don't you understand what the cursed demons have done to you?' Bramlow cried in a voice choked with horror. 'They have taken your sword-arm, Orry! By the laws of ourkingdom - and Didion as well - such a wound makes you ineligible for the throne.'
    'You're no longer Prince Heritor, twin brother.' Corodon's face was suffused with a terrible exultation. 'I am.' His gaze flickered and he looked sidelong at Bramlow. 'Not our royal father, nor King Somarus, nor anyone else can deny me. Isn't that right, Bram?'
    The novice said nothing.
    Corodon turned back to Orrion. 'You and Nyla are free to wed. I offer my heartfelt felicitations and wish you every happiness.' He paused with a judicious frown. 'It would be best, I think, if we explained matters to Father and King Somarus face to face, rather than breaking the news at long distance. What do you think, Bram?'
    The reply was curt. 'I dare not windspeak such incredible tidings. No one would believe me.'
    On one level of his mind, Orrion felt an eerie detachment, as though he were watching some fantastic drama enacted by the palace players that had nothing to do with reality. On another level he was coolly rational. The ramifications of the demons' action were clear and irrefutable, just as Coro had said. There could be no waffling on King Conrig's part, no talk of Orrion learning lefthanded swordplay to evade the restriction.
    Corodon must be named Heritor.
    Coro? Impetuous, happy-go-lucky Coro become heir to the throne? The notion had never occurred to Orrion. The miracle he'd hoped for would have simply changed his father's mind, so that he might marry Nyla and in time make her his queen. But now . . .
    Vra-Bramlow stood close to him. 'I shall never forgive myself for this, Orry' the novice muttered. 'Never.' And he thought: What am I to do? If I tell Father the truth about Coro's talent, the crown will pass out of the Wincantor family- to Beorbrook's adopted son Dyfrig, or even to our wicked cousin Feribor Blackhorse!
    Orrion climbed slowly to his feet. His expression was still strange, even though his voice sounded calm. 'I was willing to pay any price for my sweet love. I've paid, and I shall accept whatever penalty Father metes out to me - even banishment. All the