Spires of Spirit by Gael Baudino Read Free Book Online Page A

spells, and then, all of a sudden, you turned into a person, someone who ate and slept just like me, someone who felt cold and hunger and pain . . . just like me. I've been lonely too. Maybe not as lonely as you, but I know what it's like. Now you're looking at me, and maybe now you're seeing me for the first time. And maybe I'm not just an interfering young . . . scrapling. Maybe I'm Andrew, the carpenter. Maybe I'm someone who has some love to offer. Maybe I'm someone who wants to help. Maybe . . . maybe I'm someone who feels sorry for what happened to you and wants to try to make up for it.”
    The beryl gleamed, starlight dancing through it. Andrew looked the Leather-woman in the face, saw, just for an instant, a flash of uncertainty. Maybe . . . maybe . . .
    Before her thoughts could harden again, he spoke. “So I don't believe you when you say you'd strike me down if it weren't for this stone. I think you're willing to try once more.”
    He could not tell for sure, but he wondered if her eyes were, perhaps, glistening. “I . . . I don't want anything,” she choked. “I just want to be left alone. I just want to die . . . and get it over with.”
    “I won't leave you alone. I won't let you die. I'm not asking you anymore. I'm telling you. It's going to change. It must change.”
    The beryl was suddenly ablaze with light. Gritting his teeth, shaking, he stretched his hand across the fire, offered the stone to her. “Here. Take it. It's yours . . . and it's you. Maybe you need it. Maybe it can give you something that I can't. But I don't believe that you'll hurt me if I don't have it. Take it.”
    She reached out, hesitated.
    “I trust you.”
    The words galvanized her, and she snatched the stone and whirled half around, pressing it to her chest. It did not burn her, and, after a minute, she straightened as much as her bent frame would allow. She gazed down at the gleaming beryl, then lifted her eyes to Andrew.
    Her mouth worked for a moment. “Why?” she managed. It was not a demand. It was, rather, sheer bewilderment.
    “I told you. I trust you. I'm going home now, but if you need anything, come to me. Let's try to—” He choked and forced his jaw to stop trembling. “Let's try to be friends.”
    He turned around and walked toward the trail. He did not look back. He kept himself from looking back. When he reached the edge of the clearing, he continued on down through the boulders and the scattered rocks. Afraid. Waiting.
    Hoping . . .
    A bend in the trail brought him around to face the clearing again, and only then did he look, climbing up on top of a boulder in order to see. The Leather-woman still stood by the fire, the beryl shining in her hand, and as she suddenly lifted it over her head, Andrew could not help but wonder whether, in the next moment, his head would suddenly split. But when the Leather-woman brought her hand down again, it was not to hurl a curse, but rather to fling the stone onto the hard ground.
    It shattered on the rocks.
    A blast of incandescence, as though a star had come to dwell in the stone circle. Mounting blindingly, mounting hugely, it expanded, widened, reached out as though it would encompass the world. Leather-woman, stones, fire—all and everything vanished within the searing light.
    Andrew had but a moment to stare before it reached him, lifting him up and throwing him back off the rock. For a moment, he hung suspended, arms outstretched, feet dangling uselessly, and then, the blast passing by, he fell heavily onto the ground. He had a brief glimpse of lattices of shimmering lines weaving themselves into new patterns, and then blackness overwhelmed him.
    ***
    When he awoke, it was morning, the winter sun just rising over the plains to the southeast. He was cold and stiff, and he was infinitely grateful for his thick cloak. More than likely it had saved his life that night.
    Still groggy, he pulled himself back up to the top of the boulder and looked around. There was the