The Silent Tempest (Book 2) by Michael G. Manning Read Free Book Online Page B

eyes and tried not to think of his own
parents. He didn’t want to remember childhood, or his mother’s kind hands
tucking him in at night. I am not a parent, he told himself, but
Haley’s sleeping face returned to his mind before he drifted away.
    He awoke sometime later. He felt hot, and his body
was sweating. Something was covering his shoulders. He was disoriented for a
moment until his senses sorted out what had happened.
    He was covered by the blanket, and the warmth at his
back was Haley, curled up soft behind him. Her body heat, combined with the
extra insulation of the blanket, was the reason for his perspiration.
    Dismissing the magical warmth was enough to allow his
body to reach a more comfortable temperature. We’ve probably slept enough.
I should wake her and continue training her.
    He lay still, though, despite that thought, listening
to his daughter’s slow breathing. Tyrion was filled with an odd sense of peace,
and he was loathe to ruin the moment, despite knowing that it was an illusion.
    ***
    It was morning, and he knew they had little time
left. Their food had been brought an hour earlier, and he had been pleased to
see that it was much better than the previous meal. Gwaeri was already making
good on his promises.
    “Name the five groves,” he commanded.
    “Illeniel, Prathion, Centyr, Gaelyn, and Mordan,” she
recited dutifully.
    “When facing their slaves, what special qualities do
you expect from each?”
    She answered promptly, “Prathions can make themselves
invisible, and they have a knack for illusions. Centyr mages can create
spellbeasts to aid them during battle. Gaelyn mages can transform their bodies
at will, and the Mordan are able to teleport to any location they can see or
remember. Illeniel…” Haley frowned. “What can Illeniel mages do?”
    “There are none. The Illeniel Grove does not keep or
breed slaves,” he told her.
    “But you’re an Illeniel,” she responded.
    “I’m from Colne, the same as you,” he reminded.
“Their special abilities come from birth, not training. You and I have nothing
of the She’Har in us. What is the weakness of the Prathion’s invisibility?”
    “To become completely invisible, even to magesight,
they must forgo their own ability to see.”
    “How do you handle a Mordan mage?”
    “Trust my defense and strike when they strike. They
cannot teleport while doing something else,” she said immediately. “I won’t
have to fight a Mordan, will I? Since they are the ones who—own me?”
    “You may. The groves do trade slaves. Every grove
has some fighters that come from other groves,” he explained. “When is a
Gaelyn mage weakest?”
    “During a transformation their shield becomes weaker.
Some of them cannot maintain a shield at all while transforming.”
    “When do you shield yourself?”
    “Always, even while sleeping…”
    “Except?”
    “…Except when in the presence of the She’Har. They
consider a shield to be an act of hostility,” she replied promptly.
    He continued drilling her with both questions and
exercises until it was close to noon. Lyralliantha would be back for him soon.
Their time was nearly at an end. Haley was far from being ready for the arena,
but Tyrion comforted himself with the fact that she was much better prepared
for it than he had been.
    “You may have several days or even a week or two
before they decide to blood you,” he informed her. “Make sure you practice
every day.”
    “There’s nothing else to do here,” she replied
somewhat bitterly.
    He could only agree with that, “The solitude will test
your sanity.”
    “Is that what changed you?”
    Tyrion stared at her, unsure how to answer.
    Bolder than she had been in the past twenty-four
hours, she elaborated on the question, “I can see Alan’s features in your
face. He talked about you a lot. Helen did too, but you seem very different
than the son they described.”
    “I am not the son they raised.” Daniel is dead, he
told