The Mirror of Fate by T. A. Barron Read Free Book Online

saggy sling. Then, despite his constant wriggling, I gathered him in my arms and placed him inside. Though one of his tails protruded, coiling and uncoiling in time to his nervous moans, the rest of him disappeared in the folds of cloth.
    Lightly, Hallia touched the moaning bundle on my chest—causing the ballymag to shriek and curl himself into a huddled ball. She studied the bulging sling. “He may not appreciate that you saved our lives, young hawk, but I do.”
    I tapped the hilt of my sword. “This is what really saved us.”
    She stamped her foot on the ground like an angry doe. “Come now. You sound as if you had nothing to do with it.”
    I gazed at the shadowed trees. “That’s not what I mean. But we came close, too close, to dying right there. If I really have all the powers that Cairpré and the others think I have—expect me to have—then I shouldn’t have been fooled by those snakes to begin with.”
    “ Hmfff. Why can’t you make mistakes sometimes, like anyone else?”
    “Because I’m supposed to be a wizard!”
    She placed her hands on her hips. “All right then, great wizard, why don’t you tell me something? Such as how are we going to get back to Gwynnia before she frets herself to death, or tears up the countryside looking for me?”
    “Well, unless you’d like me to try Leaping . . .”
    “No!”
    “Then we’ll have to walk.” I patted the sling—and jerked away my hand just as a claw nearly snapped it. “With our friendly companion here.”
    Turning to the aged cedar by my side, I laid my hand upon its deep-rutted trunk. A waft of sweet resins came to me; I could almost feel them flowing beneath the bark. “I wish I could find some way to help you, old one. And the rest of this place, as well. But there just isn’t time.”
    The branches above me stirred slightly, sending down a shower of dead needles. I glanced at Hallia, who had already strode off into the forest, following the slanting beams of the afternoon sun. I pressed my palm into the tree’s bark for another few seconds, and whispered, “Someday, perhaps, I’ll return.”
    Catching up with Hallia wasn’t easy, since she was trotting speedily through the woods. No doubt she would have suggested that we change ourselves into deer, but for her awareness that I needed to transport the ballymag. Yet even with two legs, she leaped with ease over roots and fallen trunks, while I seemed to snag my tunic on every passing branch. The ballymag’s heavy sling didn’t help—nor did the occasional claw that would reach out and snap at me.
    Panting, I finally caught up with her. “Do you,” I huffed, “know where you’re leading us?”
    She ducked beneath a fragrant bough of hemlock. “If this is the forest I remember, the Summer Lands lie to the west. I’m hoping to find a landmark I recognize before long.”
    “And I’m hoping to find some water. To rid myself of this—” I slapped away the roving claw. “This baggage.”
    For a long while we trekked through the trees, hearing only the crunching of our footsteps or the occasional scurrying of a squirrel on a branch. Then, from a ravine below us, we heard a sharp thud, repeated several times. A sword. Or an axe, hacking and chopping. Suddenly, a tormented wind swept through the branches, rising to a cacophonous moan.
    Both of us froze. I took Hallia’s arm. “We can’t do anything to save this forest, but maybe we can save at least one tree.”
    She nodded.
    Following the chopping sound, we flew down the ravine, crashing through the thicket of blackberry bushes that covered the hillside. Though I tried my best to keep up with Hallia, she soon left me behind. Once I tripped on a fallen limb, landing with a thud on my chest. And on the ballymag, whose shrieks nearly deafened me. I regained my feet and again plunged down the hill.
    A few moments later, the ground leveled out. I burst into a narrow, grassy clearing. There stood Hallia, arms crossed against her chest,