Storm at the Edge of Time by Pamela F. Service Read Free Book Online Page A

out I can’t. I’ve been trying hard, and I haven’t seen one ghost yet.”
    â€œGhosts!” Urkar sputtered. “Just what do you think the ‘supernatural’ is? It’s simply power that goes beyond the common laws of nature. Making use of this power is what you call magic. And seeing ghosts is only a tiny passive sideline of that.”
    Jamie sat silent for a moment, letting this settle through her mind, rearranging things.
    Arni spoke up again. “These two must come from some pretty strange places not to know about magic. But what do you mean, Urkar, about being called upon to use it?”
    The man combed a hand through his gray-streaked hair. “I’d better explain about power first. I imagine that even Tyaak understands about there being two kinds of it in the universe.”
    â€œTwo kinds?” the boy said. “You mean like matter and antimatter?”
    â€œSomething like I suppose. In the universe there are two forces, one that creates and one that destroys. Usually they are in balance, but occasionally one force grows and breaks over the other like a storm. If it is the creative force, then a rash of new mountains or worlds or galaxies can be created. If the storm is one of destruction,then mountains, planets, and galaxies can be destroyed.”
    Tyaak sneered. “Sounds like superstitious clothing over basic cosmic dynamics—energy rift theory gone wild. But what does this have to—”
    â€œStop interrupting, and I’ll tell you. Throughout the universe, there are beings who can sense these forces and use them, gravitating either to the destructive or the creative. When a force storm looms up, those of the threatened side use their powers to resist.”
    Arni was frowning. “What sort of power does our family have?”
    â€œCreative.”
    â€œGood. I don’t think I’d much like doing evil magic.”
    â€œEvil magic!” Tyaak exploded. “I have had quite enough!”
    â€œNo you haven’t!” Urkar stabbed him with his icy blue gaze. “‘Evil’ is one term for it. So is ‘destruction,’ or ‘chaos,’ or ‘death,’ or—what did you call it?—antimatter.
    â€œNow, I
will
continue. One of those storms of destruction was growing when I was a young man. On these islands, we had always tried to channel and strengthen our forces through constructs of power, the way pillars and roof posts are repaired or added when a great storm is brewing out at sea. But this storm was greater than any ever faced before. Those of us who wielded power determined that a new central pillar of creative force was needed to, so to speak, keep the roof on this part of the universe from collapsing.”
    Urkar stood, sweeping an arm around the perfect circle of stones. “I was chosen to bring this about. Ichanneled forces that terrified me with their enormous power. But the design was good; it could have held back the storm, perhaps, for eternity.”
    His voice broke, and he sat down. After a moment, Arni said, “Could have?”
    Urkar’s reply was flat and strained. “Those who wielded the destructive power fought us. Before our pillar was ready, they drew the storm toward it. Our structure had been built and the forces were flowing, but the strength of any pillar is in its core, and that—they shattered.”
    â€œDid the storm break, then?” Arni asked in awe.
    â€œNo; the pillar, this stone circle, endured. And even shattered as it was, the core still remained within it, adding slightly to its strength. But that has vanished now, because the core is gone. Once again a storm is building, sweeping this way, and now little remains to hold it back.”
    Jamie frowned as she tried to follow the story. This fellow, she tried to assure herself, was a madman—or, more likely, he and the rest of it were a nightmare. But neither lunatics nor nightmares let