WINDWEEPER by Charlotte Boyett-Compo Read Free Book Online Page B

his senses attuned to air that was slightly charged with unusual vibration; the sensation played along his nerve-endings.
    Although everything seemed normal, his power told him otherwise. Nothing looked out of the ordinary. Nothing caught his attention. The sun beamed down to warm the cool day. Gulls flew by the ship, following at a discreet distance, and dolphins surfaced occasionally to call their greetings. All seemed oblivious to the undercurrents he felt.
    He glanced toward the western horizon and saw only the bright wash of blue and orange, but he felt a shiver go through him; at that exact moment Liza tightened her hand around his arm. She had felt it, too.
    "Do you know what it is?" she asked.
    Another quiver went through him and he tensed even more. "Go below, Elizabeth," he said, his gaze on the far horizon.
    "Why?" she asked, her eyes mirroring the worry she saw reflected in his.
    "I want you to go below."
    She touched his face. "You are my mate. I stand with you before whatever this is."
    "Did you feel that?" he asked as a sudden tremor of pure unease settled over him. "This is not some minor rift in the Veil, Liza. This is something evil heading our way."
    She looked to the far horizon, squinting. She trembled at his words. "You should be able to turn away whatever it is that lurks out there. I knew long ago your strength was much sharper, your power more refined than my own, although I believe mine is the more lethal."
    He looked away from her probing green inquiry. "It wasn't something I wanted, Liza." He shook his head in denial, frowning.
    "Once the gods give a gift such as ours, Conar, it can never be revoked, only lessened. It can be chained, be made dormant, but it will never entirely disappear. Those of us who are blessed—"
    "Or cursed."
    "It's not a curse. You just can't let it rule you, that's all." She saw his frown deepen. "Your power doesn't come just from the Red Path, Milord. It also comes from the White. From the Ancients who walked the Right Hand Way. Mine comes strictly from the Blue Path, from the Multitude. Since good and evil are mated, and then mixed with the Old Ways, our combined strengths are so powerful there is little we cannot either hinder or stop altogether when we are side by side."
    "The power Kaileel invested in me is purely evil, Liza. It corrupts. It destroys. It tried to destroy me! One day it just might."
    "Only if you will allow it to do so. Or let it use you for evil." She touched his cheek. "There is not much chance of that happening. There is still a great amount of good in you."
    His head turned toward her. "So Tohre once told me. I hope that is true, for I will die before I let it corrupt me again." He took her arm and walked toward the hatchway. "Go below. Let's see how well the bastards taught me."
    She eased her arm out of his grip. "Let me stay until we know what is out there."
    "Elizabeth!" he warned, his voice brooking no argument. "Don't try me, woman! I have given you an order, Madame, and I expect you to obey me!"
    He watched her face redden, her nose tilt into the air, and knew he had said the very worst thing he possibly could have said. He had not meant to be so overbearing, to sound like a chauvinist, but the intense tremors shooting constantly through his body—his every nerve tingling as though he stood in a lightning storm—made him fear for her safety.
    His only thought had been to get her below before whatever calamity was headed their way could strike. Seeing the mulish look on his wife's face caused him to groan and look to the heavens. "Shit," he said under his breath.
    "I stay, Sir!"
    "Storm coming, Your Grace!" the lookout shouted from the crow's nest. The man was pointing to the southern sky.
    Heads turned.
    Dark, swooping clouds were boiling from both the southern and eastern stretches of the sky; blending, swirling, clashing together beneath the brilliant red globe of the sun, they filled the entire vista with an ominous sweep of